They All Lived Story 57: From Drachma with Love
by LadyWordsmith
Summary: Summer 1973: When troubling rumors of taboo alchemy start coming out of Drachma, Edward and Alphonse lead an undercover team in to investigate. Meanwhile, the Amestrian delegation to the Drachma discovers Drachman politics is still a dangerous mire.
1. Chapter 1

**June 5****th****, 1973**

_As the two brothers stood over their fallen enemy, Allen turned to Harry. "It looks like another job well done, brother. What do you say we turn this fellow in and go for brunch?" _

_ Knock knock._

"Who is it?" Edward looked up from the typewriter. "You're interrupting a very important scene here."

"Oh really?" Urey asked as he poked his head in, looking amused. "Well then I won't stay long. I'll just drop these books off I finished," he said, dropping three heavy tomes on Ed's desk. "And let you know that Granny said since you were late, I got to eat your lunch."

Ed glanced at the clock. Okay so he'd lost track of time again. But this book –his fourth now- was due to the publisher soon. Good thing this was the last scene. "Oh, she did not."

"Want to bet?" his seventeen-year-old grandson grinned broadly.

"If you did, I'm adding three miles to our run this afternoon," Ed stood, and stretched. It was going to be a quiet summer. With Trisha and Roy graduated and State Alchemists, it was just Urey and Ted around for alchemy lessons, like they were all year. The book done, he wouldn't be starting on another one immediately. He wasn't entirely certain what he wanted to do with the next one. He needed to consider his material.

"Come downstairs and find out," Urey chuckled.

"All right, I'm coming." Ed followed Urey downstairs. It wasn't an idle threat, but he doubted Urey had been at all intimidated by it. After the past couple of years of training, the boy was turning into a crack fighter, just as Ed had always figured he would, given time and experience. He was growing into himself too; taller than Ed –unsurprisingly- and broader in the shoulders. He was solid, but that was more in comparison to Ed, and Urey's taller, leaner brothers; he looked more like his Rockbell grandfather, the way Aldon did, though a little more-so; stocky for an Elric, but not compared to most guys it made him… reasonably average.

Winry smiled at them both as Urey and Ed came down the stairs and crossed the living room to the dining table. "It's about time you got your nose out of that typewriter."

"You can't rush genius," Ed grinned at her. His sandwich was, as he anticipated, right there on his plate where it belonged.

"Is that what they're calling indulging your ego with thinly veiled fictional adaptations of your real life adventures these days?" Winry asked as she finished pouring glasses of water.

"Very funny." Ed sat down and examined his lunch. Roast beef sandwich with lettuce, tomatoes, and mayo, and fresh sliced apples. Such a healthy, tasty looking meal. "Lunch looks great."

"You're lucky we left you some," she teased.

"So Urey was telling me." Ed picked up his sandwich and took a bite. He swallowed before continuing. "Because he's got nothing better to do this summer than steal his grandfather's food." Actually, Ed had no real idea what Urey was planning to do with his summer other than alchemy. He was going into his last year of high school, and after that, he'd be off to University where-ever he decided to go. Summers of freedom would be in short supply after that.

"It keeps us both on our toes," Urey grinned around his own food. "It's not like I've got anything better to do."

"Perfecting your transmutation technique comes to mind," Ed countered. "What, don't you have any regular summer plans?"

"Like you ever had regular summer plans?" Urey scoffed.

"I did once… when I was a kid." Okay, so that was decades ago, and back before his mother had died. "And for decades once I had kids," he added with a chuckle. Summers as a father had been far more satisfying than summers as a teenager.

"Yeah well, that's a ways off on my end," Urey pointed out, and the touchy note in his voice told Ed not to press. Not at the moment. Dating was always a hit or miss subject with his grandson, mostly because Urey's success on that count was still just as hit or miss.

"Good thing," Ed replied, shrugging. "So I was thinking this afternoon we'd work on that water-to-gel transmutation for-" he cut off as the phone rang.

"I'll get it." Winry hadn't sat down yet, so she went over to the phone and picked it up. "Hello, Elric Residence."

Ed kept chewing as he watched Winry's face, looking for a clue as to who was on the other end.

Startled, then slightly serious. "Oh, good afternoon, sir. To what do we owe the pleasure?"

Sir?

"Yes, he's right here." Winry put one hand over the mouthpiece. "Edward, it's for you. It's Rehnquist."

"The President?" Urey looked up, startled.

Ed wasn't feeling much less surprised. Alan Rehnquist had never called his house personally, ever. Ed couldn't remember the last time he'd had someone from his office call either for that matter. He swallowed and went over and took the phone from Winry's hand. "Hey, Alan. What's up?"

"It's always got to be so formal with you, doesn't it, Fullmetal?" Rehnquist chuckled wryly on the other end of the line.

"Yeah well, old habits," Ed grinned. Winry was rolling her eyes at him. "Anyway, what's going on?"

"I'd like you to come to Central," Rehnquist got to the point. "I have a matter I'd like to discuss with you and your brother that's of some urgency. I need to pick the brains of some subject matter experts and frankly, you're it."

And something he clearly didn't want to speak about over a phone line. "No one taps phones in Resembool," Ed pointed out. "But if it's that important, I suppose I could make a jaunt up there for a couple of days. How soon do you need me?"

"Yesterday, which is when I found out about this."

Vague, yet mysterious; it had Ed's curiosity if nothing else. "I'll catch the next train," he promised.

"Thank you, Ed." Rehnquist sounded rather relieved. "I knew I could count on you."

"Because I'm reliable?"

"Because you can't keep your nose out of everyone else's business and you can't resist the open invitation to find out what's up."

When Ed hung up the phone, Winry was still looking at him expectantly. Urey looked like he was dying of curiosity.

"So, where are you harrying off to this time?" Winry asked, resigned.

"Just Central for a few days," Ed promised. "You can come along if you want you know. Rehnquist wants to talk to me and Al about something. I'd bet my arm and leg it's got to do with alchemy."

"You're not allowed to bet limbs anymore." Winry sat down at the table. "And as much fun as that could be, I think I'll stay here and enjoy the quiet. I've got two pieces I need to finish this week and I promised Art and Deanna a night of babysitting tomorrow so they could have a little night out to themselves," she smiled at that. Ed couldn't blame her, their great-granddaughter Rhiana was an absolutely adorable one-year-old.

"So how long are you going to be gone, Grandpa?" Urey asked, clearly wondering how this would impact this summer's alchemy schedule.

"Not more than a week or two," Ed replied. He couldn't imagine it being longer than that, and that was a long estimate. "Say, I have an idea. Why don't you and Ted come along?"

"Really?" Urey perked up immediately. Well, what teenage boy wouldn't enjoy a trip to Central?

"Sure. I can't see your folks minding if I get the two of you out of their hair for a couple of weeks," Ed grinned. He wasn't sure Aldon and Cassie would know what to do with only Callista home and Reichart next door. Ian wasn't due home to visit for another month, when his current filming schedule gave him a break long enough to come home for the end of June until early August. "I'll ask them before I get tickets. There's a train on the schedule coming through tomorrow I think, so you'll need to pack light, and pack quickly."

"I can do that." Urey promised, gulping down the rest of his food without further ado.

"Just don't choke before you get to it," Ed chuckled, returning to his seat and his lunch. He was sure the boys would be able to come along, and that they'd probably learn a lot on this trip, or at least have a good time. Ted was eleven, a great age for a harmless little adventure. Still, he wondered, just what was it Rehnquist wanted to talk to him and Al about specifically that he couldn't discuss with someone else?

Ed had a couple of ideas, but he'd really rather never have to touch on those topics as realities ever again.

**June 6****th****, 1973**

There was something comforting in falling flat on her face on her own pillow in her little set of quarters in the officer's barracks, Trisha Heimler thought, as she collapsed on her bed at the end of another long, arduous, but fairly boring mission. She'd been out of town for nearly two weeks trekking around after some official who wanted to check the air quality in the mines and mining towns north of West City along the southernmost edge of the range. There had been a lot of testing, collecting very specific air samples, and a lot of results and paperwork… and one small cave-in that hadn't injured anyone.

_I never want to smell coal again._ Why couldn't it have been gem mines, or silver mines? At least it was done. She'd gotten all of her paperwork finished on the train ride back, even though she'd gotten home after ten at night and wouldn't be able to turn it in until the next morning. It lay, neat and ready to go, with the rest of her work.

A good hot shower and a hard scrub had gotten the last of the scent of coal and sulfur off her, at least so she hoped. Now she was clean, she was home, and she was hungry and ready for a relaxing evening in the company of someone she had missed.

Trisha yawned as she picked up the phone and dialed Roy's number. He was only a couple of buildings over, but she was tired enough she didn't feel like trekking over there if he wasn't in. He hadn't met her at the station, and he hadn't been here when she arrived, so he might be getting ready for her return.

The phone rang ten times before Trisha gave up and hung up. Clearly, her boyfriend was not in his quarters. Feeling a bit disgruntled, Trisha pulled on her socks and shoes and changed out of her loose sweats into something more presentable over-all. She'd go over and look for him and, if he wasn't available, she'd just grab something quick to eat from the little commissary located in the middle of the small cluster of buildings that made up the officers' quarters. A noodle bowl or something would do as long as it was food.

The weather was warm, and a bit humid, as Trisha made her way down the sidewalk and over to Roy's building. Since the quarters for single officers were grouped by gender in the buildings, there were no women in Roy's building, and Trisha didn't have a key, so she had to ring the bell and stand at the door until someone came down and let her in.

As it happened, a second lieutenant who worked under her Dad in Rehnquist's office came to the door. He smiled. "Hey, Whisper. You're back."

"Hi Mills," Trisha smiled back. "I'm looking for Firestorm. He isn't answering his phone. Have you seen him?"

Mills didn't look at all surprised by the question. "He headed out around dinner time with a few of the guys. I don't know when they were planning to be back," he replied apologetically. "You know Central on a Saturday night."

"Yeah, I do." Trisha stifled a sigh. Roy was out, and she had no way of tracking him down unless she felt like hauling all over Central doing investigative work. "So why aren't you out with them then?"

Mills grinned and shrugged. "The truth? My mother decided she's dropping into town to visit me tomorrow and only called me yesterday. I've been having a fabulous evening of panic-stricken cleaning to make my place presentable enough it won't send her into hysterics. She's kind of a neat freak."

Trisha could just imagine some poor woman feinting at the side of unfolded laundry. She chuckled. "Good idea. Well, thanks for the Intel. When Roy gets back could you tell him to call me if it's before midnight?" It was already eleven, but she could hope. "I'm going to grab chow and crash. I just got back and I'm beat."

"No problem. I'll beat him down and make him call," Mills promised. "Take care, Whisper."

Trisha headed towards the commissary, trying not to feel too disgruntled that her late-evening plans had been foiled because Roy was out enjoying himself somewhere with a bunch of the guys. She tried to be above the bit of jealousy inside her that noted that where there were bunches of good looking single officers, there were always flocks of equally good looking single girls – usually in short skirts and tight tops- vying for their attention.

Tonight, Trisha was too tired to care… too much. She'd get comfy with her noodle bowl and a good book, and then get some much needed sleep.

**June 8****th****, 1973**

The next day proved to be as uneventfully boring as most first days home. Trisha turned in her report first thing, and then found herself catching up on the few things that had hit her desk while she was gone. There was always plenty of work to share, and by the end of the day her desk was, as usual, neat and empty again. She hated leaving anything sitting if she could avoid it.

When the day ended, Trisha was glad to leave the office. She knew Kane wouldn't assign her out of town again immediately. He was good about shifting folks around so they had a little down time with the exception of emergencies.

Not that Trisha minded her work, but Roy hadn't called back Saturday evening, which meant either he hadn't gotten her message or he had gotten in well after midnight. Then, when she'd tried to check in on him on Sunday, he wasn't in and no one knew his schedule for the day. Trisha had felt justified in disgruntlement at that point. She'd told him when she'd be back. Had he forgotten?

Having not seen him at lunch, and missing him in the office apparently by minutes, Trisha was beginning to wonder. She knew Roy wasn't avoiding her, but lately they didn't seem to be spending nearly as much time together. How often _was_ she really on his mind?

As she neared the doors to the building nearest the office, Trisha finally heard the timber of that familiar voice. Roy was chuckling about something. Picking up speed, she hurried up and stepped out the door.

"-sounds like a fabulous time, ladies," Roy was saying to two pretty girls whose rank marked them non-officers, probably secretaries.  
>Trisha stopped moving.<p>

"Oh it will be," the brunette flashed her perfectly even teeth in a bright smile. "So we'll see you tonight?"

"I'm sorry, but I can't make it tonight," Roy replied with his own dazzling smile.

"Awww, why not?" the blond asked, pouting.

"Duty calls of course," he replied. "But I do appreciate the invitation."

"Well maybe some other time then," the blonde sighed. Both girls waved and walked off.

"And just what duty would that be?" Trisha asked as she continued down the stairs and into his line of view.

Roy turned, and his face lit up in a smile again. "To my heart of course," he chuckled, holding out his hand. "I've missed you."

"So why weren't you around when I got home?" The words came out more bitterly than she'd intended to make them.

Roy's smile slipped a little. "I'm sorry, Trish. The guys asked if I wanted to out and it slipped my mind what day it was."

"You didn't call. I didn't see you yesterday," Trisha pointed out. "I even called your folks."

Now he did look guilty. "I'm sorry. Saturday night I got talked into a soccer game yesterday. I just…"

"Forgot I might enjoy watching you run around in shorts?" Trisha commented, managing to smirk just a little at the oversight. "You'd better have played well."

"Well I did score two of our team's five goals, and we won," Roy assured her, looking less nervous as he came closer and took her hand. "We were pretty awesome."

"Is that why those girls were asking you out?"

"What oh, them?" Roy fidgeted. "Yeah, probably. They saw the game and they were out with the lot of us on Saturday. There's some party tonight too."

"Did you want to go?" Trisha asked.

"Well, I wouldn't have minded going, with you of course," Roy added quickly. "I _did_ turn them down."

She didn't like how nervous he was acting. Roy had never been easily ruffled, and Trisha had never had reason to doubt his loyalty. So why was he acting like this? "Yes, I heard you. You were awfully flirty for a guy turning down women and a party."

"Flirty?" Roy's smile vanished. "No, I was just being friendly. There's no reason a guy can't be nice about turning them down can he?"

"We need to talk about your definition of _nice_."

"Is something wrong?" Roy asked. "I wasn't flirting with them, Trish. Even if I went, it wouldn't have been with them. I have you."

"Right, the girlfriend you forgot was back in town."

"Okay, that's enough." Roy's expression turned to a scowl. "I haven't done anything wrong here. What is up with you?"

Trisha winced, and felt immediately guilty. "I'm sorry. It was a long trip, and I wanted to see you, and you were impossible to find." _And I don't like how they were looking at you, or how you were looking at them, even if you weren't going to do anything._

Roy's smile returned and he pulled her away from the doors, where the crowd of leaving military men and women had already turned to a trickle. "Nice to know I was wanted. Come on, let's get out of uniform and go celebrate your homecoming properly, okay?"

That was more like it. "Just you and me?" Trisha asked curiously, letting him lead.

"Just us," Roy promised.

* * *

><p>Roy tried very hard not to kick himself as he hurried through showering and changing into casual beige slacks and a medium-blue shirt. How the hell had he forgotten that Trisha was getting back Saturday? For some reason he'd had it locked in his head that her mission was supposed to end on Monday. That was why he hadn't been surprised to see her at work.<br>Admittedly, the weekend had been fun and full of spontaneity. He hadn't been out with just the guys in a while, and the game had been surprisingly fun. Roy couldn't remember the last time he'd just played a game like that; he'd been so focused on alchemy outside of school for so long.

Okay so basking in the adoration of his teammates and a lot of pretty girls had been nice to, but he hadn't seriously considered taking any of the women up on their flirting or their expressed wishes to go out. Not seriously.

But it must have looked pretty bad to Trisha, he admitted as he combed his hair, pocketed his watch and wallet, and thought frantically about the best place to take Trisha on an impromptu welcome-home date that was also part apology. This should have been yesterday, or he should have met her at the train. That would have been best.

He was still worrying over it when he arrived at her building a few minutes later, and found Trisha waiting outside in a light, simple summer-dress in a brilliant leaf green that fell just below her knees. Her long hair was braided back. His heart flipped the way it usually did when he got to see her in something more feminine. It didn't happen much in the first place, and lately it seemed not at all. "Good evening, lovely lady," he grinned as he walked up. "Waiting for me I hope?"

"Maybe," Trisha smiled. Her mood seemed to have improved from earlier, and Roy relaxed. Tonight was going to be fun and relaxing, the way it ought to be. "So what's the plan?"

"I thought we'd eat, my treat of course," Roy offered her his arm. "Anywhere in town you want, just name it."

"That could be dangerously expensive you know," Trisha pointed out with a wicked expression.

"I trust to your good judgment not to bankrupt me," Roy added with a chuckle. _Please don't bankrupt me to make up for this. Please…._

"Having been on the Cretan side of things for days, I think I'm in the mood for Xingese," Trisha suggested. "How about Golden Wu's?"

Wu's was one of the better Xingese sit down establishments in Central, run by Xingese immigrants, but it was definitely in his price range. "Sounds delicious," he assured her.  
>Fortunately there wasn't a wait that early in the evening, and when they arrived, they were seated immediately at a table for two, in a corner near one of the small decorative fountains that tinkled into a small pond that held several fairly large goldfish.<p>

Once they had ordered appetizers and their main dishes, conversation turned safely to catching up on anything interesting that had happened the past two weeks. Roy listened as Trisha talked about her rather boring –by her own admission- mine air quality mission. He winced and sympathized in the appropriate spots, and asked a couple of questions. Then he told her about his own mission the week before, that had turned into a firefight when what should have been a routine warehouse inspection turned up a black-market smuggling ring dealing in all sorts of things.

Trisha hung on his every word, and when he was done, she sighed enviously. "You get all the good assignments."

"If you call getting shot at a good assignment," Roy shrugged, trying to make her feel better. "It's not fun you know."

"Yeah, I know." But Trisha's good mood seemed to have slipped away again as she fiddled with her chopsticks. "But you've gotten more than twice the number of missions I have, and they're all far more interesting than anything they've let me do yet."

"I'm sure they're just waiting for something that will really make use of your talents."

Almost immediately, Trisha's eyes flashed with irritation. "Are you saying there's nothing I can do that's useful right now?"

Bad phrasing. "No, just that you've got very specialized talents, and there just aren't a lot of missions right now that can make the best use of them."

"Which doesn't make me very useful, does it?"

_I am really off my game this weekend._ Roy sighed. "You're talented, Trish, and very useful. It's just that your talents are best for critical missions, and right now things are pretty dull. There was no way we could have known our mission would be any less boring than yours. It was supposed to be."

Trisha appeared slightly mollified. She sipped her iced tea. "Well then as bad as this sounds, I wouldn't mind a little more excitement. Just for a mission or two. Nothing critical."

"I'm sure General Kane will find something soon that makes use of all your assets."

Trisha gave him a slightly amused look. "You better be talking about alchemy, Mustang."

"Of course," he smiled back. "I wouldn't want you sharing the rest with anyone." It didn't matter who flirted with him, Trisha was the most attractive girl he knew, and he liked being the only guy she'd ever dated. The only one she'd ever kissed and, he hoped, sometime, many other first and only.

"Well I'm not interested in sharing the rest with anyone else," Trisha assured him.

Roy's mouth was half-way open to ask –playfully- if that meant she was willing to share some of those with _him_ when the waiter arrived with their food, interrupting the banter. Silently cursing the man for his terrible timing, Roy smiled, said thank you, and patiently began to eat since Trisha was clearly interested in the meal.

Dinner conversation shifted again after firsts. "So how's your family?" Trisha asked, smiling as she nibbled a pot-sticker. "Every time I see Mireia she's grown again and charmed someone else."

"Still growing, and still charming," Roy chuckled. It was a very different experience being big brother to a child almost young enough to be his –if he'd been more foolish as a teenager- instead of Théa and Rochelle, who weren't all that much younger than he was. "She doesn't mouth off at me the way the others do," he added.

"Maybe she just doesn't have reasons yet," Trisha teased him back. "Though if you behave, maybe she won't ever have to." Her eyes danced merrily, then averted as she took a bite of steamed vegetables. "When we have kids, I hope they're as sweet natured as she is."

Roy almost swallowed his piece of teriyaki chicken whole. It took him several seconds of coughing and a glass of water before he stopped.

"Are you all right?" Trisha asked, looking concerned.

"Yeah I'm… I'm fine." Roy did his best to regain his composure. _Kids?_ Trisha wanted kids? Well, okay so every woman probably wanted them eventually, but he hadn't been expecting to hear that word come out of Trisha's mouth in relation to _them_ again. Not yet. It had been a while. Somehow the topic had seemed far more hypothetical when they were younger. Besides, they hadn't even slept together yet.

"If you're sure." Trisha sat back again. "Don't die on me. I'll be very annoyed."

"Promise," he smiled back as he considered his next bite carefully and tried not to feel stupid for his heart pounding like he'd been caught in an ambush… or stalked by a jaguar. "So, how's life with the drama star?" he asked, moving the topic to her family instead of his. There were no babies living in her parents' house, just James, and her cousin Ian.

Trisha rolled her eyes, but she grinned. "It's not so bad really. I mean, it's Ian. He's talented, popular, and knows it, but he doesn't brag about it, and Dad says he's doing his part around the house, doesn't smart off at anyone, and he's actually good about keeping with school even with the acting jobs. I'm kind of impressed actually. He didn't seem all that serious about stuff when he was younger. I think the only thing that drives Mom a little nuts is he's really popular with the girls."

"He goes out a lot?"

"He brings them home for study dates a lot," Trisha winked. "Not that we don't know anything about that, do we?"

"Nope, not a bit." Roy started eating his chicken again. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised he's got girls after him with how popular his show's gotten. And he's what, sixteen?"

"Next month," Trisha nodded. "Thank goodness he's only melodramatic on set. I haven't had to smack him for setting any bad examples for my little brother." James was almost thirteen and still in the middle school. "I think I'm glad I moved out when I did. Teenage boys are a lot of work."

"You didn't seem to mind me," Roy pointed out.

"Yeah well, you're a different kind of work." Trisha gave him a very intriguing look as she sipped her drink, one Roy couldn't quite place.

"I like to think I'm a nice piece of work," Roy agreed, waggling an eyebrow.

"Watch it, Mustang. Someone might think you have an exaggerated view of your qualities."

The rest of dinner was light, pleasant banter. Roy finished his food without any more near-accidental choking, and without any more references to potential future offspring. When they were done he paid, and they took the long way home, strolling through the main part of town before wending their way back through the warm, pleasant night air.

Trisha had fit herself nicely against his side now, and Roy could tell he was forgiven for his weekend faux pas. His arm around her shoulders, he was very much aware of how good it felt having her there. He caught the light scent of her soap –she rarely wore perfumes- and she smelled lightly of vanilla and Xingese cherry blossoms. The soft glow of moonlight turned her from his very solid, very real, very down-to-earth alchemist girlfriend into an ethereal being.

Roy didn't want the evening to end. Trisha had given him so many curious looks tonight he couldn't quite read but, he hoped, meant that maybe –given her comments earlier- she might be ready to take things a bit further. They had been dating for over three years, and that was it. They'd kissed, cuddled, made out regularly… but they'd be twenty in a few months. They weren't kids anymore. This wasn't high school, and they no longer had to live under anyone's rules and preferences but their own… as long as it didn't hurt their careers.

Their stop outside her building ended with what had become the never-missed kiss goodnight. Long, alluring, and pleasant, Roy enjoying Trisha's body pressed against his for as long as he could keep her there. The warmth of her lips, the tickle of a stray hair across his skin was electrifying. He shuddered, but not from a chill or any discomfort. Trisha didn't seem in a hurry either. Maybe… just maybe…

Trisha smiled up at him as their lips parted. "Thanks for a great evening, Roy. I missed you. Catch you in the morning for breakfast?"

Roy didn't let go of her, or the moment. Not yet. "I ah… well you know," he replied, his voice quiet and low as he met her gaze. "We don't have to say good night just yet. It's not that late."

"You want to come up?" Trisha blinked, though she was still smiling. "I could make coffee."

Not quite what he'd had in mind, but it was moving that direction. "Maybe," Roy replied, his arms still snugly around her waist. "I was thinking something a little more… personable."

Trisha looked like she wanted to roll her eyes. "How many more kisses good night do you need?" she teased.

He swallowed. "Enough to last until morning?"

Silence fell between them as Trisha's mouth formed a small 'o'… and it was clear she'd finally caught on to his meaning. It wasn't a make-out session he was asking for. Not this time.  
>"Well?" he finally asked, when he thought the silence might drag on forever. She wasn't dragging him upstairs, but she hadn't hit him either. That was good, right?<p>

Trisha wasn't smiling now. She sighed. "Roy, you know how I feel about this. We've got…"

"Our careers to think of, I know," Roy cut her off gently. "I'm not saying we'd be careless." The last thing he was ready for right now was an unplanned kid! "But there's no regulation against it, with you and me under different commanding officers." He was sure Kane and Twilight had done that specifically to keep their relationship permissible.

"It's not just regulations," Trisha began. "Or… carelessness. I know we'd be careful. It's just…"

"So, that's a no." He didn't even have to ask further. Trisha wouldn't be hemming over it if she had any inclination to say yes.

"I'm sorry, Roy," Trisha looked honestly apologetic. "I want to wait."

"No one else would mind," Roy pointed out, trying not to sound forceful, or frustrated… given he was definitely feeling a lot of the latter. "We're adults. Why keep waiting?"

"Why haven't you proposed?"

It wasn't the question he'd been anticipating. Roy swallowed again, and didn't quip the first line that came to mind about not finding the right moment. It was true, but it would have been a lie to sound like he'd been planning it out for sometime in the immediate future. He wasn't sure there was a really good –or a right- answer to that question. "Do you want me to?" came out instead.

Trisha gave him a funny look. "Would I be dating you if I didn't?" She stepped back a bit, and he didn't hold her to him anymore. "I love you, Roy. You're my best friend, and the only man I've ever wanted to be with."

"I'm the only guy you've ever dated," Roy reminded her.

"And I'm your only girlfriend," she said just as pointedly. "First and only, and I'm good with that. I've never felt the way I do about you about anyone else, and I can't imagine it otherwise."

"You're not even the least bit curious about other men?"

Wrong line again. Trisha scowled. "Why? You're not interested in other women… right?"

"No, it's not that," Roy recovered quickly. "I just…" _seem to be digging myself deeper and deeper into a big cat trap this evening._ But how could she be so absolutely certain, and so ready to leap into marriage, and everything that entailed? _Probably for half the same reasons you want to sleep with her,_ his mind taunted. They were adults… they just had a different order for the priority list. "I want you," he said, meeting her eyes again. "Not someone else, not some-when else. I love you too, Trisha. That's why it's hard to keep waiting. Even if I proposed today, it would be months, at the least, before everything was planned, and done. And that assumes there's a good time for it, with our schedules. Married is… well…"

"It takes too long?" Trisha's mouth tightened into a hard line. "Look, Roy. I'm not saying it has to be now. I'm fine with waiting until our lives are a little more established. There's no reason to push things. But there are some things you want that, to get, you're going to have to commit fully. You're welcome to come upstairs for a while, but don't expect more than you know I'm willing to give."

Cold… cold water ran down his soul. Roy tried not to feel like he was being unfairly treated. It wasn't like he hadn't known, he just hadn't wanted to admit it. He also felt a little guilty for letting his hormones get the better of him but, damn it, it was getting very hard to wait! He also didn't think he could sit next to her the rest of the night without thinking about it… and maybe without trying another go. Which meant, it was time to go home.

"I should go back to my place," Roy said softly, letting go of her waist, though he rested one hand lightly on her arm. He felt like a guitar string wound too tight, near snapping. "I'm sorry I asked. I should have known better." He let go of her and turned to leave, catching a glance of Trisha's stunned face before he was walking down the sidewalk toward his building. He walked quickly. Any delay was only going to make it harder to keep his self control.

It was definitely a night for a cold shower.


	2. Chapter 2

**June 9****th****, 1973**

Alan Rehnquist's office didn't look all that much different than it had when Breda had been in it, or Mustang, aside from the personal affects and the varying level of tidiness.

Rehnquist's office was more spotless than either of the previous Presidents. Ed found it amusing, but didn't think he'd rib Breda about it.

Fortunately, Alan hadn't minded Urey and Ted coming along with Ed and Al either, other than a curious glance, assuaged when Ed explained that they were his grandsons, and alchemy students.

"So," Al spoke up when they were all seated. "What did you want to talk to us about?"

Rehnquist sighed. "To come straight to the point, four words: Drachma, chimeras, philosopher stones, and homunculi."

Ed cringed. "I don't like that list, Alan, especially not the last one. What the heck is going on?"

"That's what I want you two to tell me," Rehnquist admitted with a sigh. "Intelligence out of Drachma isn't pretty. For the past couple of years we've been tracing leads on all sorts of things; supply thefts, human trafficking like we found in Aerugo, and it's all started to make a very uncomfortable trail up into Drachma, and it definitely looks like alchemists are involved." He pulled out a piece of paper and handed it over to Ed. "That's the list of items that all seem to be going to the same location in the Northwestern Drachman mountains."

Ed didn't even need to read the whole list to blanch. He handed it to Al, who looked pale. Ed looked back at Rehnquist. "Human transmutation, chimeras, yeah that's all the right ingredients… right down to large numbers of people." He shook his head. "And, while I've never tried it this way, it looks to me like they might be trying to make homunculi another way."

"There's another way?" Rehnquist looked confused. Urey and Ted were sitting silently, slack-jawed, just listening.

Ed nodded. "There's two ways, as far as I'm aware, of making a homunculus, though they come out a bit different. The way we knew… well they're the result of a failed human transmutation. From what I've researched however, alchemists used to attempt to make homunculi, and there are records of at least one success, without a body, out of alchemical components and transmutation without a person. The downside to that, of course, is that the homunculus has no body, and it still needs a philosopher's stone to put it in a body and keep it in one. It's more complicated than having someone try to bring someone back from the dead… but less messy, and the alchemist doesn't have to give up a part of himself."  
>Rehnquist looked like this was even worse news than he'd been expecting. "So they could be making homunculi and chimeras out of these people, some for experiments, and some simply to die to make more stones."<p>

"The imperfect stones work well enough for this kind of thing," Ed nodded, the very prospect of dealing with this all making his stomach churn again. Damned alchemists! "If they can make a homunculus in a flask, they could use a stone to give it form, and when they do that…they're damned near invincible." Though that way, he supposed, you wouldn't need to try opening the gate to get rid of one. But there was no easy way to kill a nearly invincible body. For that matter, if they succeeded, would these be the homunculi Ed had known, or some completely different ones? Just because he had dealt with those particular seven didn't make them the only possible homunculi out there.

"So if all this is going on in Drachma, you want _us_ to go check it out personally, don't you?" Al spoke up suddenly, with a shrewd expression.

"Since you've brought it up first," Rehnquist replied apologetically. "You're the only alchemists we have left who have ever dealt with homunculi at all, and as extensively with chimeras. You know Drachman, and I can't think of anyone better to be able to put a stop to this. You wouldn't have to go alone of course. Take a couple of other alchemists you trust with you but… this needs to be off the radar."

"Because sending State Alchemists illegally over the border will endear us to Drachma so much with the new trade negotiations," Ed agreed with a sarcastic, humorless smile. "Do we have any cover?"

"Actually, you do," Rehnquist replied. "We have a diplomatic negotiation team going to Petrayevka in about a week. While the government is busy dealing with the legal envoys, they shouldn't be looking so closely to see who else might be sniffing around the countryside. You can see why this is important, not just to trade negotiations, but to ensure the safety of both countries, and verify Drachma's good will. We don't know if the government is supporting this research at all. But, before I brief you on the details of the current political situation tell me… will you do it?"

Ed looked at Al, who was looking back at him with the same expression; did they have much choice? How could they turn this down when Rehnquist was right… there was no one else left who had as much experience with those elements of alchemy, and who really understood what they were going up against and how to stop it.

"If our wives will let us," Al answered for them both.

Rehnquist smiled. "Better answer than I'd hoped," he admitted. "Fine yes, talk to them first. Then choose your team. I'm sure Kane won't have a problem accommodating whoever you want to take."

"I'm sure he won't," Ed nodded. He wouldn't, because if Kane tried to argue with him, Ed wasn't above blackmailing anyone with the more colorful stories of their youth. And Ed still had plenty on Kane. Not that he really anticipated problems. "Though for undercover work, sneaking in and investigating an unknown quantity of alchemists doing dangerous work like that, we're going to have to be very careful about who we select."

"Understood." Rehnquist nodded. "So, let me know when you have a decision, and your team."

"You seem awfully confident we're going," Al pointed out.

Rehnquist grinned back at them and shrugged. "Let's just say I would have put far more down on a bet on the two of you agreeing to handle this situation yourselves than leaving it up to relative rookies."

Ed chuckled. "That's only because you know us too well, Alan. Come on," he motioned to Al and the boys. "Let's go see how much trouble we can get into."

Ed didn't say another word to Al until they had left Rehnquist's offices completely, and were outside Central Command, strolling down the road back to Al's house. It had been a nice enough day they had walked over.

It was Urey who broke the silence first. "So, you're going right?"

Ed smiled at his grandson, despite the grimness of the situation they were facing. "Like I told him, I have to talk to Winry first, but somehow I don't think she'll say no, even though she'll want to."

"It's too important," Al agreed, looking concerned. "Though I really want to ask a few questions about the current situation there. This is just really suspicious. I thought, after what happened last time that these guys would be pretty unpopular now."

Ed was glad they were speaking in vague terms, despite the fact no one was walking around much at the moment around them. It wouldn't do to be overheard and understood. "Well it'll be quite a vacation."

"Can I come?" Urey asked.

Ed almost missed a step… almost, as he turned to look at his grandson. Urey met his gaze evenly, expectantly. "You think you can handle it?"

"I've learned everything you've taught me, and more than you knew when you faced them the first time right?"

That much was true. Urey was an exceptional student, and while he'd come a long way with the alchemy first, his physical abilities almost matched them now. "This isn't a pleasure jaunt," he reminded him. "It'll be risky." He knew Urey's plan was to go to college and study pharmaceuticals and botany, so he could help with medical research and the production of the medicines that alchemists could discover and provide. This wasn't a safe lab.

"No riskier than it will be for two old men," Urey commented.

Ed glared at him. "Watch it, kid."

Al sniggered.

"He's talking about you too," Ed reminded him.

"I've even mastered all the Drachman you've taught me," Urey pointed out. "And the Cretan, Aerugean, and about half the Xingese."

Ed couldn't fault him on the Xingese. It was definitely the hardest. "All right," he said at last. "But this is supposed to be kept quiet. So you can't tell your parents what we're doing."

Urey swallowed, but nodded. "Yeah. How do I do that without lying to them?"

"Leave that to me," Ed replied. He'd done enough undercover and top secret missions in his life.

"I want to go!" Ted pleaded, managing not to whine, but just barely.

Ed looked down at him with a deadpan expression. "Can you speak Drachman?"

"… No."

"Then that's settled." Urey was almost an adult. Ted was eleven, nearly twelve, but he'd started learning later than Ed and Al had, and as good as he was, Ed wasn't taking the boy on a mission this risky when there was no way he knew enough to blend in. _And if Roy could hear me, he'd tell me I'm being a hypocrite for keeping the boy back, but Cassie really would kill me if I took him. _

Ted looked despondent. "So what am I supposed to do all summer?"

"You can stay with Sara and Franz," Ed suggested immediately. "I'm sure your aunt would love to make sure you don't fall behind on your alchemy lessons, and you can hang out with James. I'm sure you'd rather do that than go home right?"

Ted's expression brightened a little. The prospect of a summer in the city with his cousin and more alchemy training was clearly preferable to being sent home. "Yeah, okay. I guess this means I have to keep my mouth shut too though, right?"

"Right." Ed nodded. "Remember, a good alchemist follows sensible orders, and a man who can't keep his mouth shut doesn't last long as a State Alchemist."  
>Ted nodded. "Yes, Sir!"<p>

Al was grinning again as they reached his house and opened the door. The boys hurried inside first. "You're getting even more manipulative."

"Am I?" Ed asked innocently. "Let's just say I've learned a lot from experience about coming up with good alternatives."

"Whatever you want to call it, you can now explain to Winry and Elicia why we're vanishing, probably for the whole summer." Al's expression sobered. "Neither one of them is going to like this."

Ed grimaced. That was the truth. Neither would like it, but Ed had one point they couldn't argue with; who else would have any idea how to deal with the situation, no matter what they found?

* * *

><p>It was very difficult to focus on work, but Trisha put all of her effort into it, because when she didn't, her thoughts went straight back to the night before… when Roy wanted to come home with her and spend the night. <em>Oh stop putting it so nicely. He wanted to have sex with you. Why are you surprised? <em>Her inner thoughts asked. _It's not like he tried to force you, but he's attracted to you, and he's male, and young, and there's no reason for him not to want to. _

But it bothered her anyway, because he'd known, ever since they started going out in high school, that she wanted to wait. Not out of some esoteric sense of right or wrong, but because that was how she felt. Why give herself over to anyone without the at least reasonable assurance that the guy in question was going to stick around for the long haul?  
>Roy hadn't minded that at all when they started going out.<p>

When they started going out, they'd only been fifteen.

What had he meant anyway? He should have known better than to ask. Did that mean he felt bad for asking when he knew how _she _felt? It hadn't sounded like that. It sounded like he'd felt like it was a waste of time. The look on his face had certainly been disappointed and strained.

And why had he asked if she was interested in other men? She'd never given any indication otherwise had she? Certainly not consciously. There were plenty of good looking men in Amestris, and other countries, but none of them held her heart the way he did. He could have been half as good looking, and she'd still love Roy Mustang.

The question, the doubt, still lingered. As much as he said he wasn't interested in other women, that didn't meant he didn't notice them and that, maybe, if he had the opportunity, he might not _be_ interested. He certainly liked the attention, and he didn't mind them flirting, even if he didn't take them up on their offers. Roy was one of those guys all the girls in Central seemed to want to date, and Trisha had found herself the recipient of plenty of stares and whispers and unpleasant looks for being "lucky enough" to be his girlfriend.  
>And there it was…that word. Girlfriend. There was nothing wrong with it, except that where Trisha saw it eventually becoming fiancée, and wife… Roy seemed far more inclined towards making it lover first. He was getting impatient, but as much as he'd tried to hide it last night, her one innocent comment about the future had made him nervous; even more than it used to.<p>

She didn't mind that he wasn't ready. She was perfectly willing to wait. The problem was, was he? He'd practically fled last night when she'd said that she was fine with more conversation, but not sex.

Maybe she'd misread his feelings. Or maybe they had changed. She knew _he_ certainly had in the time since they'd both become State Alchemists. She had changed too, but on this… this was something she felt the same about. It wasn't like Roy didn't know the reasons. At least part of it was Trisha's awareness of how her own conception had come at an awkward time for her parents (not that she was about to tell them how much she knew about that story), or her cousin Coran's for her Aunt and Uncle. No, she didn't want to risk children too soon, especially not without being married. In the military… well her parents had been very lucky that hadn't had serious ramifications on their career advancement.

"Whisper."

But where did that leave her and Roy? Trisha thought as she went on auto-pilot through the day's papers on her desk. She just wasn't ready for that step, much as she had to admit she'd thought about it. It wasn't as if she wasn't physically attracted to him. Far to the contrary, but she had more patience… more confidence in her feelings. When the time was right, she looked forward to it. But right now…

"Major."

It just wasn't the right time yet. If he wanted to give her a sign of his willingness to wait, to commit even to the future, all he had to do was propose. It didn't mean they had to get married in three months, but it would be a statement, and a public declaration in a way, claiming her for him and him for her.  
>Or maybe she should just propose to him instead. But after last night… Trisha had the feeling it would probably freak him out. She wasn't ready for a 'no.'<p>

"Major Heimler!"

Trisha blinked, and looked up into the face of General Marcus Kane, who was looking at her with an expression of frustrated bemusement. "Yes, Sir?"

"Day's over. Office is closed. Go home."

Trisha looked at the clock, and felt her cheeks turn pink. The room was otherwise empty, and the day had ended fifteen minutes ago. She set down the last sheet of paper and stood up. "Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir."

"Are you all right, Whisper?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." She managed a very convincing smile. "I just got totally wrapped up in it today."

"I didn't think you enjoyed paperwork that much," Kane commented.

"I don't," Trisha admitted. "I just really wanted to get it done."

"Now that, I'll believe. Good evening, Whisper." Then Kane turned and left.

Trisha sighed, and followed him a minute later, though she turned down a different hallway towards the door that led towards the officer's quarters instead of the main gates.

Roy was standing just outside it with a few other of the newer State Alchemists, chatting and smiling. When he spotted her, he smiled, looking for all the world like nothing had happened the night before. "Hey, Trisha! You want to come out with us?"

Out? "Where are you going?" she asked curiously.

"Just out for a few beers and pool," Simmons, the Glass Alchemist, grinned. "Firestorm tells us you're quite the player."

Well, that was true at least, but a bar full of guys smelling like beer wasn't her idea of a good time this evening. All Trisha wanted was to talk to Roy, in private, about what had happened last night and get things clear. "No thanks," she smiled at Simmons. "Thanks for the invite though." She turned, giving Roy a glance that she hoped he could read, meaning

'I want to talk to you, but not here,' and kept walking with a friendly wave at the others.

Behind her, she could hear Roy telling the others "I'll meet you there. I need to get something," and then she heard footsteps behind her, hurrying to catch up. "Trisha… wait."

She didn't stop until they'd turned a corner, out of sight of the others. Then she paused, and turned around.

Roy looked harried. "Is there a reason you don't want to come?"

Really? "Because I want to talk with you in private, not in a bar full of drunks."

"They're not drunks." Roy looked mildly offended.

"I just want to know where things stand," Trisha tried again. "I mean, after last night, when you ran off."

"Ran off?" Roy blinked. "I didn't run off, Trisha."

"You told me you shouldn't have asked and booked it faster than I've seen you move since we had Mrs. Pignot for Amestrian Literature," Trisha pointed out. "This is important, Roy. I… we… need to talk about where things stand, and where they're going. I don't feel like we're on the same page anymore, and I want to be."

That seemed better. Roy sighed. "Look, I'm sorry I asked. I just meant I shouldn't have pressured you like that. You have good reasons for wanting to wait, and that hasn't changed."

"But."

"Who said there's a but?"

"But you're impatient, and you want more out of our relationship than we have now," Trisha filled it in for him. "I don't blame you, Roy. I'm not mad about it. But we need to talk this over or it's not fair to either one of us."

"What's to discuss?" Roy asked. "You said no. I know that's not going to change anytime soon so I won't ask again."

_No, but you'll think it, and you'll regret it…and you might even resent it. _"And how long are you going to be okay with waiting?"

Roy hesitated. Roy almost never hesitated. "I… as long as I have to."

Trisha had a funny feeling in her stomach, and she didn't like it, but it had been growing slowly all day. It had started out as a bud of an idea, but the more she looked at him, the more she knew she had to say it. "That doesn't seem very fair to you."

"Doesn't it?" Roy shrugged. "You set the rules, and I agreed to them. Yes, I'd like it if there was more, but since that's not happening, I'll just live with it."

"But you're not happy about it."

"Do I have to be?"

"No." Trisha swallowed. "But I don't want to make you unhappy. Roy I… maybe… maybe we should stop being exclusive. You know, for a while."  
>Roy looked like someone had hit him upside the head with a hammer. "You want to… break up?"<p>

"No!" Trisha shook her head. "I don't mean that! I just mean… if… if I'm not enough maybe you should have the chance to make sure that I'm really the one you want." _Or if you find someone else whose priorities match yours better, you can decide whether it's really that important to you._ The very idea revolted her, in a way, that she was even offering, but Roy was restless, and that wasn't going to change unless the situation did… and she just couldn't make that compromise.

"So you _want_ me to see other women?"

"I _want_ you to decide what you want, and what you need." Trisha tried very hard not to fidget as she met his eyes. Those eyes she'd known since they were little kids, the eyes of her best friend. "Because if it's not me, I don't want you to feel like you _have _to be with me. I love you, I don't want to let you go, but I'm just… giving you the option to find out what you want without cheating." That was it, really. She didn't want to stop seeing him, but if the relationship was a little more open… maybe she'd feel less awful about what was making them both unhappy.

"That has got to be the stupidest idea you've ever had."

Trisha stared up at him. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," Roy replied. His frown deepened, and he almost looked angry. "What do you want me to do, Trisha? Go sleep around with women like my father did? When the only woman I'm really interested in is right here in front of me? Damn it I thought you had more sense than that! Oh sure, tell me I can go sleep with someone else… get it out of my system so you don't have to deal with it. Is that it? Give me an outlet until you get around to being _ready_?"

"No! That's not what I…"

"That's what you just said." Roy's face was turning red now. "And I can't believe you really think so little of me you think I'd do that! What about all your concerns about our careers? How would this _look_? Did you even think about that? Did you think about how I might feel, being told by miss _not-until-we're-married_ that this is, in any way, all right? That it would be good for me? You're insane!"

"I am not!" Trisha glared at him. How could he have taken it that way? That wasn't at all what she'd meant! She didn't want him sleeping around with other women. She'd just… tried to not trap him in. "If it bothers you so much then why can't you just make a damned commitment so we can stop having this argument?"

"Because I'll make it when I'm good and ready!" Roy roared back, and Trisha was only then aware of how loudly their voices had escalated, and was even more grateful no one else was around that she could see. "I don't need you making these decisions for me, _Miss Heimler._ You know," he stepped back a little. "Maybe you're right. Maybe we do need a break. Because I really had no idea you were so willing to let go. Do I really mean that little to you? Does my family's _history_ mean that little to you? Cause I don't think you could have connived a better insult if you'd spend all day trying!" Then he turned, and spun on his heel…and vanished.

Trisha stood, rooted to the spot, frozen in utter shock.

It took her over a minute before she could get her feet to move. By the time she rounded the corner, Roy was long gone.

Reluctantly, she turned and walked home alone. By the time she was half way there, she couldn't see through the tears.


	3. Chapter 3

**June 10****th****, 1973**

"You want me to come with you to _Drachma?_"

Ed tried not to chuckle at the disbelieving expression on Cal's face as he finished explaining what Rehnquist had told him and Al, now that Winry and Elicia had actually agreed to let them go. "Not to put too fine a point on it, but you know how to live in those mountains, and how to blend in better than most. You've got enough of the language, and it's still going to be snowy and wet up where we're at. As an alchemist you're an asset. We want to keep the team as small as possible, and you're a good match."

"So, what do you think?" Al asked. The two brothers sat on one of the two couches in Cal and Alyse's townhouse, while Cal sat on the other. Charlie was playing on the floor with blocks. Gloria and Alyse were upstairs.

Ed could almost hear the gears turning as Cal considered everything they had told him. In truth, Ed also thought Cal of all people would handle dealing with this type of mission, and the type of alchemy they would be coming across, really well. He might have asked Tore, except that Kane had already pegged him for another important part of the mission; Tore was heading up the security detail for the diplomatic corps going to Petrayevka. Ed couldn't pull him off a prime assignment like that for a mission no one might ever know about. In fact, if they did this right, it would never have to be known about by almost anyone.

Cal's glance went to Charlie for several long seconds, then towards the upstairs before he focused on Ed and Al again. "I'll do it. Not sure how much Alyse will like me running off for a while, but I'm coming. I had enough of a taste of chimeras in the last war to know we don't need any more of those monstrosities, or anything stronger, running lose in the world, especially not under Drachman control."

"Good, I was hoping you'd feel that way."

"Though I'm curious," Cal added then. "I know why you didn't ask Tore. But why not ask Firestorm?"

A very good question. "He doesn't have the experience," Ed replied. "Sure he's good. Really good. And nothing beats down something that's been enhanced by a philosopher's stone better than fire, but he's not ready to go up against something like this and he's just a little too high profile. His face is recognizable and much more well known."

"And yours isn't?" Cal asked, looking slightly amused.

"Not as much now. We're old news, and a lot older than most of our publicity shots," Ed replied, even though he cringed a little inside admitting it. "That and we're damned good at disguising ourselves when necessary. We need someone who's ready now. Roy will be ready in a couple of years."

"Makes sense." Cal nodded and leaned back. "So is there a plan to go along with this little expedition yet?"

"As much of one as we could make without our team." Ed went on. "The current plan is to go in undercover and make our way towards the area where all these people are being taken until we locate the place out of which these alchemists are working. From there we're going to need to scope out the situation, get as much information as we can, and decide what to do. If we can do anything about it ourselves, we do so. If not, we pull out and get back up."

Cal gave him a knowing look. "And how likely are we to be coming back to get backup?"

He knew them too well. "I don't think we're likely to find anything that's more than we can handle. We haven't before."

"What Ed means is that he'll just squash them with his ego," Al grinned.

"Better my ego than your backside."

"Backside?" Al looked at Ed.

Ed grinned. "Well I can't very well say anything more vulgar in front of the kiddo, can I? Alyse would kill all of us." He pointed to Charlie, who was watching them curiously.

"You don't want to know how many times I should be dead by now," Cal admitted with a chuckle. "Fortunately, after Gloria, I've gotten quite a bit of practice."

"Then you can get more by surviving letting her know you're coming."

**June 11****th****, 1973**

Tore waited in the meeting room with a feeling of eagerness. Finally, he had been given an assignment that, along with not being grunt work, reflected his promotion to Lieutenant Colonel and would not likely involve being shot at even though it involved a high level of trust. He was in charge of the security detail that would be going with the diplomats to Petrayevka. He had already spoken briefly with the non-alchemists on the team; the regular soldiers who would be going, but he had picked both of the other alchemists that he wanted on the security detail with him, and he was just waiting for them to arrive. He was pretty sure they would both be grateful to him for the opportunity.

"You wanted to see me, Shock, Sir?" Roy Mustang asked as he came into the room, looking curious.

Tore nodded. "I do. I've got a mission for you and another alchemist. As soon as you're both here I'll explain the details."

"All right," Roy nodded, coming to stand easily at rest on the other side of the conference table. He looked tired, Tore noted, and he wasn't smiling. Well, this assignment was almost guaranteed to improve his disposition. It was just the kind of mission Tore would have killed for when he first started out. Heck, he almost would now.

His second pick arrived right on time. "I'm here, Shock," Trisha Heimler spoke up as she came through the door. "So what's this mission Kane wouldn't tell me about?"

"A pleasant surprise I hope, for you both," Tore grinned.

Trisha blinked, and then noticed Roy in the room. She didn't smile, but she did turn to look at Tore. "So what's the mission?"

"You two have been assigned as the other alchemists on security detail for the diplomatic mission to Drachma," Tore informed them, grinning. "Which means you'll be working under me."

Two sets of eyes lit up temporarily. Then, two faces fell into almost identically serious expressions. "Thank you, it's quite an honor," Roy spoke up first. "What will our duties entail?"

"As diplomatic security, our primary job will be just that, to stay with the ambassadors at all times, to make certain that they are safe, and are seen to be so to deter any potential trouble where there may be any. We don't need to make a show of anything, but we do need to be on our best behavior. We will be expected, knowing Drachman society and from my last trip there, to be polite, accessible, and prepare to be asked many questions that in other countries you might not be expected to. Security is never invisible in Drachma, unless it's _their_ security, and they usual prefer to keep it on display."

"Fortunately, I know I can trust the two of you to be pleasant, diplomatic, discrete, and work together well. So I'm sure this mission will be relatively easy on all of us as long as there isn't an actual physical threat on any of the ambassadors." Tore grinned at them both. He did not mention, though it was probably obvious, that they were getting the chance to prove that they could still be professional even while having a personal relationship.

Neither of them was smiling, and Tore became aware that there was a definite subtle tension in the room. Was there something going on? Maybe they were just more nervous than he'd expected, or trying not to show too much excitement or familiarity. "Any questions?"

"When do we leave?" Trisha asked.

"Next week, Wednesday," Tore replied. "So you've got plenty of time to get packed and get anything else done that has to be done before you leave. This has already been cleared with your direct superiors of course. I recommend brushing up on your Drachman. I know I will be." He had already been reviewing the language for three days.

Roy finally smiled, chuckling a little. "You can count on it."

"Good." Tore nodded. "If you think of anything else, you can ask me anytime. For now, you're dismissed."

The two of them both nodded, performed proper salutes, and then turned and left the room, Roy a few strides in front of Trisha.

When the door closed, Tore stopped grinning. Was something wrong that they didn't want to tell anyone? Both of them had seemed unusually succinct. Briefly, the potentially unfair –but realistic given his experience- thought was that maybe they'd gotten themselves into a bit of a spot. But then, if they had, there was no way Trisha would have agreed to the mission. Or maybe they'd just had a bit too much fun last night. Tore wouldn't worry about it too much. He couldn't see anything affecting their work. They were too professional to let that happen, and too eager to prove themselves. Perhaps that was it; the stress of something much more important than any job they'd had before.

* * *

><p>Trisha had to lengthen her strides to catch up with Roy, he was moving so quickly by the time he hit the hallway. "Hey, Firestorm, wait up… please?"<p>

Roy stopped dead in the hallway and turned to face her, his expression catching her off-guard with how cool it was. "Did you need something, Whisper?"

Trisha glanced around. There was no one here. She could do this quickly, and then maybe he'd stop looking at her like that. "I wanted to apologize… for the other night. It didn't come out at all the way I meant. I-"

"No, no, it's all right," Roy cut her off with a shrug. "I've been thinking about what you said, and you're right. At least about letting the options be open." His eyes turned harder. "I mean, it's better I know how you feel now, isn't it? I never realized how contradictory you were about things like morals… or how paranoid and insecure you are. If you over-reacted that easily to a little harmless smiling… well let's just say I think you were right and let's leave it at that. Was there anything else you wanted to say?"

Trisha's tongue froze in her mouth, and her throat constricted. Only willpower kept tears from forming in the corners of her eyes, though she could feel them threatening to. _Paranoid? Contradictory? _"Look, I know I over-reacted, that's why I wanted to talk to you."

"Why, so you could insult me again?"

"No!" What was wrong with him? Roy was normally so reasonable. She was trying to make things right. Couldn't he see that?

"Well don't worry. We've got the whole mission. I'm sure you'll manage it again." Roy turned away from her.

"What's wrong with you?" Trisha reached out and grabbed his arm, feeling her anger rising again. "I'm apologizing! Why won't you talk to me so we can work this out?"

"I'm tired of talking to a girl who still thinks like a spoiled, jealous teenager." Roy growled, jerking his arm away. "We need to get back to work, Whisper. This is not the place to discuss personal problems." He continued down the hallway at a brisk walk.

Feeling foolish, Trisha turned and went the other way. She had her assignment for the week. Right now… maybe she'd take her frustrations out on the gym equipment. Stupid, frustrating male! Was this really the Roy Mustang she'd grown up with? What had happened to him?

* * *

><p>There was nothing better than an impromptu all-family get together, and given he didn't know when they'd be back, Ed was inclined to enjoy himself as much as possible with the family that was there. Since he and Urey and Ted were staying at Sara and Franz's house that was where this particular dinner happened to be. Ian was heading back to Resembool for the summer on the morning train, so it was their last chance to hang out with him before they missed him for most of the summer too.<p>

Ethan and Lia were over with Eamon, Lily, and Aeddan. Sylvia had begged off, going out with a friend instead. Not that Ed would have minded if Ethan's mother-in-law came along, but she still seemed to find Elric gatherings overwhelmingly boisterous.

Gracia, Al, Elicia, and all of their kids and grandkids made up a large portion of the crowd, and there were small children underfoot everywhere.

Ed loved it. He just sat and grinned as he ate his way through a plate of food, watching as Ian, Urey, Ted, Minxia, Michio, and James played a board game. The younger kids were playing a slightly simpler game, while the littlest – three-and-a-half year old Charlie- watched and tried to help, occasionally frustrating Gloria by messing things up on her turn. Fortunately, she was very patient.

It wasn't everyone, and Tore was home tonight, spending as much time alone with his family as he could. Ed thought that was a good thing. Little Brandon was only seven months old, and there was a lot more to do to prepare for him being gone on his mission, and in charge of his mission, than the rest of them in some ways. Especially since it was high profile, and much more public.

All in all, Ed didn't miss those days.

Everyone seemed to be having a good time and everyone had easily accepted that Ed, Al, Cal, and Urey were going on a mission, a very important one, involving alchemy… and they couldn't say another thing about it. Elicia and Winry knew where they were going, but no one else did. Ed was glad that no one had tried to pry it out of them either. His family understood and appreciated what it meant to keep something a secret.

Ed decided he wanted seconds. He stood up, stepped around the pile of kids of various ages on the table, and around the card table where most of the older 'kids' were playing poker, and headed for the kitchen.

"-didn't Roy come tonight? He was invited," he heard Sara in the kitchen.

"He was busy," Trisha replied shortly.

Ed stopped moving. Something about that tone told him not to interrupt. But that didn't mean he couldn't eavesdrop.

"That's funny, I thought he was coming. That's what Elena thought the other day when I talked to her."

"Well she was wrong," Trisha sniffed, sounding more irritated than Ed had heard in a while.

"All right," Sara replied. "You can tell him he's welcome any night this week. It'd be nice to see him outside work before you both go to Drachma."

"I'd rather not."

That surprised Ed, but apparently it surprised Sara even more.

"Why not?" Sara asked.

"Let's just say it's complicated, and leave it at that," Trisha replied. "I don't want to talk about him."

"Did you two have a fight?"

"_Mother._"

"All right, I'm sorry, but at least on a professional level, this is my business. Are you going to be able to work together? This is an important mission."

"Nothing interferes with a mission," Trisha replied.

Ed risked a glance around the corner, to see the two women –so similar in many ways- looking sharply at each other.

Sara gave in. "All right, you're right. I'm sorry. I'm sure you'll work through whatever it is soon enough. I just want to make sure you're all right."

At that, Trisha's expression softened a little. "Thanks, Mom."

* * *

><p>Maes wasn't sure who to expect when the doorbell rang. It was after dinner, and they weren't expecting anyone. Théa and Rochelle had both gone out with friends, having finished their school work before dinner. Elena was upstairs taking a relaxing bath now that they had just finished putting ten-month-old Mireia to bed.<p>

He got up off the couch, put down his book, and went to the door. When he opened it, he was a little surprised to find Roy standing on the porch. "Forget your key?" he asked.

"Oh... yeah." Roy just grunted. "You don't mind that I'm here, do you?"

"No, of course not, why would I?" Maes shrugged and stepped aside, letting his son in. He couldn't remember the last time Roy had looked so brooding. "How was dinner at Sara's?"

Roy moved past him into the living room. "I wouldn't know."

"You didn't go?" Maes closed the door and followed him.

"I had other plans." Roy dropped down on the couch, shrugging a bit too casually.

Something was definitely wrong. "Had a fight with Trisha, didn't you?"

Roy stared at him with such surprise that Maes knew he'd struck gold. Then the younger man shook himself, and looked away. "No."

Well it had been bound to happen sooner or later. In the years they'd grown up together, Trisha and Roy had certainly argued before, but Maes had sort of been waiting for the first major relationship spat. It had come far later than he would have bet it would. "Well if you aren't going to call it a fight, what would you call it?" Maes asked, not willing to be thrown off that easily.

Roy looked uncomfortable even as he shrugged again. "A break up?"

Maes dropped his book mid-reach. "_What? Why?"_

"I shouldn't have come." Roy was on his feet again, his expression irritable. "Forget I said anything, okay?"

"Hold it." Maes reached out, catching his son's shoulder. "I don't want to pry into your personal business, but you're not walking out and leaving it on that note. Now, sit back down and at least tell me what happened… and why you smell like beer." Though given his son's statement, he could have answered that one.

There was a brief flash of guilt in Roy's eyes, but he sat back down without argument. "I didn't go to the Heimlers'. I had dinner by myself. Trisha and I had a disagreement about priorities, and she got really insulting. I got mad, we argued, and I'm just waiting for things to cool down, okay? I don't even know why I came over here. Please don't tell Mom, and please don't talk to Twilight about this. I just… I want to keep it between Trisha and me. It's just frustrating… you know?"

Insulting? Maes decided not to push the issue. At least he'd gotten a relatively straight answer. "So what about this mission?" he asked instead.

"Nothing's changed," Roy replied flatly. "A mission's a mission and I'm not going to let anything get in the way of this one. It's the best opportunity I've gotten so far. I'm not going to screw it up."

"I didn't think you were," Maes replied evenly. This… this he was only too familiar with. "I'm sure you'll do excellent work as usual, and I'm sure you'll manage to work things out with Trisha, however they end up. Whatever you disagreed about, it's not worth throwing away a lifetime of friendship, and several years of a good relationship."

Roy snorted. "She practically tried to throw me at other women, Dad. Somehow, I don't think she's worried about our friendship."

"Are you sure?" Maes stared at his son skeptically. That didn't sound like Trisha to him.

"I was there wasn't I?" Roy glared at him. Slowly the fight seemed to drain out of him. "I should go. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt your evening." He stood up again.

"No, I'm glad you came," Maes told him as he straightened up again himself. "You can always come here, you know that. And you know, if you ever do want to talk about anything more, I'm here."

Roy gave him a bemused look. "Thanks, Dad. I appreciate it. I'm gonna go back to my place. It's probably better. I don't think I could handle Mom asking me questions. At least… not until I get things figured out. Okay?"

"I won't breathe a word," Maes promised. He just hoped, whatever this disagreement was, that they worked it out soon.

* * *

><p>Urey sprawled out on his back in the sleeping bag, arms crossed under his head on his pillow as he looked up at the ceiling of Ian's room in Central. He didn't mind bunking back in with his brother while they were here. In truth, he'd missed Ian a lot more the past year than he'd expected. So now he enjoyed getting to spend time with him, trading stories about school and life.<p>

"The director never did figure out how we kept making his chair move," Ian finished his story, grinning.

Urey chuckled. "Sounds like the cast gets along really well now."

"We do," Ian nodded. "It's a fabulous ensemble. I'm glad they renewed us for next season. The story's getting really good, and next season, my character gets a new girlfriend," he added waggling his eyebrows.

"And does that effect your real social life any?" Urey asked curiously.

Ian shrugged. "Dunno. I haven't dated any of the girls on the show. It gets really awkward if you break up with someone and then you're around them on set all the time. So we've just been friends. I've only had time for a few dates with the girls at school." He looked rather disgruntled by this. "But with them sometimes it's hard to tell if they're interested in me, or my character."

"Sounds complicated." Urey was sure he wouldn't like that. While he wouldn't mind it if more girls were interested in him -or at least _one_- not knowing if they were really interested in you for you… he didn't think he'd like that.

"It can be. But… it's not bad when I do get to spend time with the girls," Ian grinned again. "What about you, Rey? Any luck with the ladies?"

"Not really," Urey admitted, trying not to sound as if it bothered him much. He smirked over at Ian. "They all spend their time watching your show. Even the ones who don't have television."

Ian stared at him for a moment. He chuckled. "So it's all my fault, huh?"

"Yep." Urey nodded. "Not that I've really had a lot of spare time. Grandpa's been working me really hard this past year. I've only got one left before I go to University, so it's been nothing but homework and alchemy."

"Bookworm," Ian chuckled. "That's all huh? You look like you've been doing a lot of physical training too."

"Well you know Grandpa," said Urey, privately pleased Ian had noticed. "If you're not physically and mentally exhausted, you're not trying hard enough."

"You ought to make time to date in college," Ian grinned. "I bet college girls dig a guy with brains. Especially without me around to get in the way."

Urey heaved a spare pillow at Ian. "If your ego gets any bigger you'll need to buy something to hold it in."

"I could with what I make," Ian laughed, ducking the pillow. "But I mean it. I'm kind of glad you're not here, or I'd have a lot more competition. Still… come back safe from this mission, okay?"

Urey looked up at his younger brother in the dark, and saw the earnestness in his face. It had been hard not to tell his brother where they were going, or what it was about other than dealing with something having to do with alchemy that only Grandpa and Great-Uncle Al could handle. Urey had to admit, he was nervous about his ability to keep up, but he couldn't pass up this chance. "Don't worry about me," Urey smiled back at Ian. "With Grandpa and Al and Cal with me, what could possibly go wrong?"

* * *

><p>"What's this?" Ed looked at the small pack Ethan handed him with a funny expression.<p>

"Something to stop anything that could possibly go wrong?" Ethan suggested with a chuckle. "Or at least, anything I thought you might need that you can't just stroll into a shop and get in Drachma."

Ed looked back down at the pack and opened it up. Unsurprisingly, it was a medical kit, though it wasn't the typical military first aid kit; this one was clearly designed for an alchemist, and an auto-mail patient, and Ed in particular since it contained plenty of the painkiller Ethan had developed specifically so that Ed had something he could take if the cold or wet –both of which he would have to deal with in Drachma- affected him. It would be good for Cal too if his leg was problematic. There were bandages and disinfectants and even a small kit for necessary auto-mail repairs, already specially fit to the cold-weather auto-mail Ed and Cal had both switched over to the day before. Even summers in Drachma were too cold for steel auto-mail. "What are these?" Ed asked curiously, picking up a small square packet wrapped in water-proof cloth.

Ethan grinned. "A little something I think you and Uncle Al especially should be able to use, though I bet Cal and Urey could do. I took a bit of a book out of the Drachman's alchemy tricks from the war. Those are circles designed to assist with alchemical healing. They're no replacement for me or Ren, but they'll work for emergencies in place of messy things like tourniquets. You should be able to clot critical wounds and give yourselves time if anyone gets badly hurt. Not that that's permission," Ethan added with a grin.

"Right," Ed chuckled and set the small bag down. "Your mother wouldn't give me permission to get hurt either. I don't know what it is about you two."

Ethan rolled his eyes. "Given how often I get griped at for acting like you, I can't imagine why we'd be concerned."

"Still getting that huh?" Ed asked. "How are things at home?"

"Just fine," Ethan replied then, smiling. "Really. We've got a pattern now, and Sylvia and I have figured out how not to step on each other's toes most of the time. No one's going crazy."

"Well I'm glad that's working out," Ed replied. He missed staying in the house sometimes, but he didn't begrudge Lia or Sylvia the right to have the same familial rights. It was better for everyone. He was also glad Ethan seemed to be okay with it after over a year. "When I get back, we'll have to do dinner at your place."

Ethan smiled back as he stood to go. Almost everyone else had gone home already. "Count on it."


	4. Chapter 4

**June 20****th****, 1973**

The train from the Amestrian border to Petrayevka sped through the Drachman countryside, which in the warm summer season proved to be little less bleak than it did during the rest of the year, Tore noted. There was still snow, though a few sun-warmed places showed patching and the occasional bits of bold brown grasses poking up, and the fields were filled with growing plants in this short growing season along the flatter planes below the towering mountains and tucked into the valleys.

It didn't take long before they left the fields behind, and the foothills were covered in thin layers of snow almost consistently. Tore hoped that the _other_ mission wasn't too miserable, going up into the heights of the mountains. Neither Ed nor Cal did really well in the cold, though Cal fared better, having the newer port model.

Now that they were finally in Drachma, Tore found himself focusing more directly on his own mission at hand. Though he wasn't a diplomat, he had just as much responsibility on this trip, and he had no more interest than the rest of the team in screwing up what could be a career-making assignment.

His brain ran over and over again the detailed briefings he had attended, and then given, preparing for this, in regards to the current Drachman political situation. It had been complicated enough when Tore visited as a kid, and different by the war. Now, it was yet another political ball-game all together.

Originally, Drachma had primarily consisted of a nobility-based monarchy that had been taken down by the people in a revolutionary shift. The Old Nobility still existed, though their power was now far from absolute. There was a strong military presence that, while not an official party, definitely had a say in how things were run. It was the political elements that made up the People that seemed to complicate things, not unlike other countries, by having split and varied interests. Though in this case, the current People related parties seemed divided around the subject of alchemy which, the last time Tore had been in Drachma, had been almost taboo, and certainly considered mystical and unwelcome. Its popularity during the war had not won them the war… and Tore had wondered if alchemy had returned to its obscure unwanted status.

This seemed to not be the case. No longer a dominant power, the People party was now split into "The People" and "The Alchemists and people who are Pro-Alchemist" parties. These four major factions comprised the government they were going to be dealing with for the most part. Apparently in the years following the war, many smaller parties had sprung up, though they were usually quickly quashed or fell apart. These were not the people that their diplomats would be dealing with however.

Who the military sided with usually determined who really held control of Drachma. So that was what was important. At the moment, the faction that seemed to be most in sync with the military was the People faction. This faction, the military, and the Old Nobility actually agreed on one thing that made this particular set of negotiations even possible; the utter lack of international trade would kill Drachma even more than the collapse of the war-economy would. It was time to swallow a little bit of pride and see if they could come up with a treaty that would restore some dignity –and much needed commerce- to Drachma.

Amestris was quite happy to do this. If amicable trade renewed with Drachma, than the Drachman people, the common folk, would not want another war. They were tired of hardship.  
>Not that this was universally popular. There were plenty of people, in all factions, who were proud enough not to want to go, as they saw it, begging to Amestris –whom they had failed to conquer- for assistance. Old school traditionalists; the proud, the determined…and those who had been part of the war who remained in any position of power whose failure had marked them, or damaged their careers.<p>

Chairman Radikov, for example, had been ousted after the war failed, just as unceremoniously as his predecessor; Akhatova had been removed, supposedly for being too radical. Well, the alchemist-and-Radikov alliance had proven far more radical, and damaging.

Tore's thoughts went, briefly, to Akhatova's daughter, Irina, with whom he had danced at his last diplomatic dinner in Drachma, though he hadn't known until after the dance that he'd been bold enough to ask the daughter of the head of the Drachman government. Fullmetal had teased him about it for two days.

He wondered what Irina was up to now. It had been well after the war before he found out that Akhatova and his daughter had survived his removal from power, though they had spent some time quietly sequestered out of view in the mountains to avoid ending up dead. Last he heard, Akhatova had not returned to government, but was living quietly in northern Creta, not too far from the Creta-Drachman border.

Tore hoped Irina was happy.

"Thinking about Charisa?"

Tore blinked, and looked away from the observation car window, to find Roy standing beside him. For a moment, he almost lied and said yes, just because he felt funny being caught thinking –even platonically- about a girl he hadn't seen since he was thirteen. "Actually, I was thinking about someone I met the last time I was here; then-chairman Akhatova and his daughter, who went into hiding during the war. I was just wondering what they were up to now."

"Oh," Roy looked startled. "Sorry. I just kind of assumed… because you looked thoughtful."

Tore smiled. "Don't worry about it. I do miss her already, but I'm sure I'll miss her a lot more after running roughshod over security details for everything we're doing for the next couple of weeks. Security on a moving target is more complicated than simply blocking off a building." Charisa and the boys had seen him off at the station. It had been really hard for Tore to hug her, and both of his sons, goodbye. Still, having his family to come home to would just make the end of the mission that much more satisfying, no matter how things turned out.

Roy nodded. "So you said, though the train seems easy enough as long as we're moving."

"As long as no one intercepts or stops the train," Tore replied pointedly. "Or someone isn't biding their time."

Roy looked startled, then nodded. "Right. Should I go do another lap of the cars?"

"In a minute." Tore looked over at Roy. There wouldn't be a better time to ask this. "Is there something going on with you and Whisper? Beyond the usual I mean."  
>Immediately Roy tensed. Not much, in fact if Tore hadn't been looking for it he probably wouldn't have noticed. He looked out the window, as if he was just admiring the scenery.<p>

"Nothing to be concerned with," he replied neutrally. "Just a personal disagreement. It won't affect the mission."

"I didn't say it would," Tore spoke with an even tone. "I had just noticed things have been a little tense, and formal, between the two of you; more than usual. I wanted to make sure it was nothing important."

"No, it's not," Roy promised.

"All right then. Thanks for answering," Tore replied, dropping the subject. "You can make that round now."

"Yes sir, Shock." Roy saluted and left the car.

Tore, who was keeping an eye on one of the diplomats who was a few seats down also looking out of the observation windows while he chatted with one of his aides, remained where he was, feeling reasonably reassured. Now, if only the rest of the trip would go as smoothly as it had so far.

**June 22****nd****, 1973**

Alphonse looked out past the frost-covered window of the unremarkable Drachman civilian truck in which he rode, and tried not to worry about the fact that so far the mission seemed too easy.

He, Ed, Cal, and Urey had all been outfitted with basic Drachman clothing and money before they had snuck quietly across the border, in the beat up truck that was salvage from the war, and driven up into the mountains doing their best to look as if they belonged there.

For all intensive purposes, the trip had been nothing but a road trip that was more tense than usual, because anytime they stopped, they had to try not to look like anything out of the ordinary.

For the first few days, they had offered different stories in any town they had to stop in for gas or food. The Drachman-style travel rations left a lot to be desired, though there was no food in the truck that might give them away. So they had a pathetic selection of water, Drachman soda, and –because no self-respecting Drachman wouldn't have any– a case of cheap Drachman beer that so far only Cal had been brave enough to try, and had declared almost undrinkable. Food consisted of jerky, cans of sardines, and a box of crackers.

They made a game of it at the start, coming up with various stories to tell. Urey's first one had been amusing; they were former roustabouts from the Drachman circus, who had quit because of a fight the three older ones had gotten into one night and they'd left to avoid being fired. Urey they played off as Cal's orphaned nephew on that one.

Cal's tale of hitch-hiking a ride with Ed and Al to find his runaway girlfriend was almost as good. In that version, Ed and Al were just mountain folk who had driven down into one of the bigger towns to get farm supplies with Ed's grandson, and were taking Cal back that direction with them, though they didn't think he had a shot at winning her back. That story had won a few sympathy points at the second town they had stopped at.

And so it went.

Al was trying to decide what story they ought to tell next when the truck bucked, bounced on the road, and veered back on course. "Geez, Ed! Why are we letting you drive again?"

"Blame the Drachman roads," Ed griped as he steadied it out. "And the fact this thing has no shocks left, if it ever had any."

This road was paved, technically, though Al had to admit that under the layers of dust and ice, it looked pitted and pot-hole filled enough it might as well not be. "Well, try and miss the big ones," he grumbled.

"Someone's grouchy," Ed sniggered. "What's the matter, not getting a nice nap? Why don't you check that map for me and maybe we can figure out how far it is to this town we're supposed to be stopping at. I think we need oil this time as well as gas." The truck certainly went through enough of it.

"We should stop and fix that leak at some point," Al suggested as he pulled the map out again. It shouldn't be that hard with a little alchemy to get rid of the leak. Al would have liked to have made a lot of other improvements to the truck, but that had been discouraged. They didn't want anyone to look at it and have something give them away. Like comfortable seats. Al didn't complain, but he'd already had a back ache for two days, and none of the seats were any more comfortable than the others. At least the front seats had better leg room.

"After we pick up oil," Ed nodded. "So where are we?"

Al looked at the map, noting the town they had left, and the town they were heading towards, though they were getting smaller all the time, and further apart. There wasn't even a train out this way, unless you went all the way into Petrayevka and caught the western express. That was still quite a ways north of them. The area they were scouting wasn't supposed to be quite that far out north, but a bit more west. The long part was going to be getting there and back.

Al would have much preferred if they could have found a faster way to charge in and take these guys out. If these alchemists turned out to be another Tamirov and crew, he had no intention of leaving that operation intact. But he just wanted to get there. Damn Drachma for being so big. "It looks like we're about two hours out, unless the road improves."

Cal barked a laugh from the back. "If you think this is bad, just hope we don't end out in the real boonies."

"What do you call this?" Urey asked, and Al could see his great-nephew gesturing out at the mountains around them in the rear-view.

"Almost civilization," Cal snorted. "Come on, kid. You grew up in the middle of nowhere."

"Resembool is not the middle of nowhere," Urey frowned.

"Yes it is," Ed and Al chorused together, before they shared a look and broke out in chuckles.

"It just doesn't seem like it," Ed continued. "Not now, and not with the trains coming through more often. It's grown since we were kids. Now, those little mining towns out this end of Amestris way, those are remote."

"Yes, yes they are," Cal sighed. "Hey, why don't we pull over now and fix that oil leak."

"Why now?" Ed asked.

"Because I need to take one."

"I wouldn't mind a pit-stop either," Al admitted, though the ice and snow covered hills didn't look like pleasant places to pull over and do their business. "Too bad there aren't more roadside pit stops on these roads."

Urey shuddered. "You'd think by now they'd have gotten tired of freezing their privates off if they needed to go."

"Drachmans are tougher than that," Ed barked a laugh. "They don't even feel it."

"Well unlucky for us, we're not really Drachman." Cal sighed. "Pull over, Fullmetal. Let's get this over with."

Ed found an extra-wide flat area near the road within a couple of minutes, and they pulled off. There was a small stand of pine trees just deep enough for privacy. Al suspected that this _was_ the Drachman idea of a roadside stop.

Grimacing, Al unbuckled and stepped out into the brisk chill. This was really not how he'd wanted to spend his summer. It was hot and sunny in Central. Elicia would be in sundresses, or they could have been at the pool, and she'd have been in a swimsuit. She still cut a really great figure in a swimsuit.

Instead, Al was being forced to relieve himself in below-freezing conditions in the middle of the afternoon on a summer day. This was one of those few times where it sucked to have a body.

**June 24****th****, 1973**

The Amestrian Embassy turned out to be far more comfortable –and warm- than Trisha had anticipated. She had heard her grandparents and great aunt and uncle talk about the multi-story structure, with the offices on the ground floor of what was essentially a grand old townhome, with luxurious rooms upstairs, but the reality made the brief descriptions pale in comparison. Of course, the stories usually didn't spend a lot of time on architecture given the events that had occurred.

"I don't see why security has to wear formal gowns," she commented to the only other female on the security squad, one of the soldiers, as she finished her hair. "I don't feel particularly intimidating in this," she gestured at the strapless floor-length twilight-blue gown she was wearing. There was a thick wrap she would be wearing over her shoulders however, to keep from freezing.

"Drachman traditions," Kelsey shrugged as she finished putting in her other dangling emerald earring. Her dress was similarly classic, though in dark blue slashed with green. "Though from what I understand, we're not supposed to be intimidating, we're supposed to blend in and make people forget that we're dangerous… at least, militarily," she added with a wink.

Trisha chuckled despite herself. Her mood hadn't improved much during the rest of the trip, though she had gotten better at hiding it, and it was easier to ignore her personal unhappiness and frustrations when she was focused on the mission at hand. This was too much of a chance to prove herself as a State Alchemist, and too important a mission overall, to be distracted. "Somehow I don't think we're going to distract them enough to get the Drachmans talked into giving us whatever deal we want."

"We have nothing to lose," Kelsey pointed out. "They're the ones whose economy was nearly destroyed after they lost the war. They can't afford to keep going in such a serious recession, and if they can talk us into reopening trade, they might be able to get trade going with other countries too."

Trisha nodded. It had all been in their multiple briefings. "So let's go appear to be harmless, lovely, and charming."

Kelsey shook her head. "I think they'll buy the second two, but the first one, never."

* * *

><p>The banquet turned out to be not entirely different from the few formal dinners Trisha had attended with her parents as she grew up. Military officers, government officials, and their families, doing a dance that was in time to the music, but often had little to do with what their feet were doing.<p>

The setting, however, was quite different. While the Officer's Club in Amestris was very nice, and had hosted many an international gala, it didn't hold a candle to the glittering chandeliers, and gilding, and color of the Old Palace, and of its inhabitants. The mix of old style fashions and new –all heavily accented with the furs and jewels that were so popular here- made the guests look like gems themselves, especially the women.

The men wore more of a mix, and Trisha found she could pick out who was likely to be in which political group, merely by what they were wearing. The fanciest –particularly when comparing the men- were the Old Nobility, whose styles involved brocades and bright color and almost as much in gems and furs as the women.

In stark contrast to these, though not entirely exclusive, were the Military men, resplendent in uniform. In both cases, the men might wear medals, military or in the cases of some of the Old Nobility, retired military who still carried the family name and responsibility.

A little more difficult to tell were the two factions that made up the parties made of the People, the middle class or mercantile who now held a large portion of the control of Drachma. They wore a mix, and that was where Trisha noticed the most foreign fashion. But that made sense, since these were the people who often made their living –or had- dealing with other countries. Many of those fashions were simpler as well, like hers; elegant but not extravagant.

"No one told me that Amestrian women were so beautiful."

Startled out of her reverie, Trisha looked over at the young man who had moved up beside her, where she had been standing near a pillar along one of the walls, taking in the scene. He was about her age, with dark blond short, straight hair that sat neatly in place, and surprisingly bright blue eyes. His clothing marked him an enigma however, since he wore a very fashionable, though expensive looking, black suit, with a tie that matched his eyes, and yet he wore, glinting on his neck, a thin gold chain studded in small sapphires, and several jeweled rings. :No one told me Drachman men were so quiet,: she countered with a smile.

That earned her a laugh and a flash of bright, even white teeth. :My apologies,: he replied, following her lead and slipping into Drachman. :I did not mean to surprise you.:

Given she should not have been caught off guard in the first place, Trisha decided it was better not to follow that line of conversation. :Was there something you wished to discuss?:

:Merely to introduce myself,: he smiled. :After all. This is meant to be an evening of making new friendships, is it not? Drachma and Amestris on good terms once again. The past behind us.: Then he took her hand and gave a little bow over it. :I am Gavril Mihalov, of the families of Mihalov and Gurina. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance.:

Gurina. Trisha knew that name! :You are related to the Chairman?: she asked. There might be more than one Gurina family in Drachma, but turning up here that seemed unlikely. Besides, there was a slight resemblance to Ermolai Gurina, though the Chairman was in his fifties.

:He is my uncle, and you are very astute.: He paused, clearly waiting for her name.

:Major Trisha Heimler,: she introduced herself, smiling back. :It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Gavril.:

:Please, call me Gav,: Gavril chuckled. :And if I am not mistaken, you are the daughter of General Sara Heimler, and that makes you the granddaughter of the Fullmetal Alchemist, does it not?:

Trisha blinked, but managed to hide her surprise that he knew who she was. But then, perhaps the Drachmans had been studying up on Amestris as much as they had been learning about Drachma. That, and of course Grandpa and her mother were both very well known, particularly after the Drachman war, she could see why this would not be a surprise for the nephew of the Chairman to know. :I am. Does this bother you?:

:Not at all,: Gavril assured her. :Not if it does not bother you that the Chairman is my uncle. Somehow, I think you are used to knowing people.:

:This is true,: Trisha admitted. Her family did seem to know everyone in Central, and she knew so many people who were related to those in high circles. Why should Drachma be any different? :And no, you being related to the Chairman does not bother me.:

Gavril grinned and sipped from his glass before setting it down on one of the small side-tables along the walls. :Good. Then, in the name of international progress and prosperity, will you dance with me?:

Trisha pretended to consider it. :I will,: she finally agreed, smiling. :Though you know, you could have just asked me for the fun of it.:

:I could have,: Gavril agreed with a chuckle as he took her hand and led her onto the dance floor, :but where would the fun have been in that?:

* * *

><p>Roy tried not to crush the glass in his hand as he sipped his vodka lightly and turned his back on the dance floor, pretending to admire the painting on the wall of one of the long-ago kings of Drachma. He didn't want to watch Trisha simpering at that Drachman fop. The guy looked reasonably important, which meant cutting in would not be the best political move.<br>It was actually an interesting painting, with intricate detail paid to his best feature –his hair apparently given his face was nothing much to look at- and the details of his formal outfit and all the medals that implied that the man had been one who led his people in time of war. Against whom, Roy wondered.

:I see you appreciate fine art.:

Roy turned to find himself looking at a tall, willowy woman with long, sleek black hair in a very tantalizing, fitted, plum colored formal gown. He smiled, and his grip loosened on his glass. :Well I'm no expert, but I do enjoy it.:

She eyed his drink. :I didn't know Amestrians drank vodka.:

:I didn't know Drachmans drank anything else.:

:Touché.: She chuckled and saluted him with her champagne flute. :I'm Talya.:

:Roy,: he introduced himself informally, as she had. She already knew he was with the Amestrian ambassadors, but he couldn't help but wonder who she was in relation to everything.

:So what do you do, besides brighten up rooms with your smile?:

She rolled her eyes, but smiled anyway. :I'm a lobbyist.:

Naturally. :And what causes do you champion?: Roy asked.

:The protection and careful use of Drachman natural resources,: Talya replied.

:Snow and rocks?: Roy asked, teasing lightly as he sipped his vodka.

Her eyes lit up even as she twitched slightly. :Coal, oil, furs, and yes some of our finer rocks.: She held up her hand, on which sparkled a ring with a large amethyst set between tiny diamonds. :Forests. Water. Drachma is a treasure trove of resources. They should not be taken for granted.:

:No, you're right,: Roy agreed. :My apologies.:

:Accepted,: Talya set down her glass on one of the trays on a nearby table. :Do they dance in Amestris?:

:Well, I do.: Roy set down his glass, taking the cue, and held out a hand. :Would you do me the honor?:

:Delighted.:

Talya proved to be as light on her feet as she looked, and Roy found himself enjoying having her in his arms. She was an accomplished dancer, moving with him so easily that it was almost like he didn't have to lead. She was warm, and smiled with an easy sensuousness. She also had –he would only admit to himself- a very distracting pair of breasts, set perfectly in the dress she wore.

* * *

><p>:Who's that?: Trisha asked, trying to sound only casually interested in the answer.<p>

Gavril glanced over her shoulder as the spin brought her around so she couldn't see. :With your Amestrian friend?:

:Yes.:

:Talya Malenka,: Gavril replied. :She's a compatriot of mine. We're in the same political group.:

:So you know her well then,: Trisha tried not to look too hard as he finished the spin and she could once more see the busty raven-haired woman with her chest plastered all over her… no, all over Roy. He'd made it quite clear that Trisha could no longer lay sole claim on him.

:I should,: Gavril chuckled. :We used to… go out, is that how you say it?:

Now that was a bit of a surprise. Gavril seemed so relaxed about it. :Yes, that's right,: Trisha nodded. :What happened?:

:Talya wanted to pursue her political career,: Gavril said with a slight shrug. :It's difficult to be involved with a political partner and be taken seriously. So we agreed to break it off. I didn't want to hold her back, and it was easier on both of us. We're still good friends.:

:That sounds nice,: Trisha replied. Was that how she and Roy were going to end up? Just good friends…the way her mother and Roy's father had ended up, despite stories she'd heard of early attempts at romance that had not gone well. The thought was… depressing.

:Have I said something wrong?: Gavril asked.

Trisha blinked and looked up at him, putting a smile back on her face. :No, sorry. I was just thinking about some…thing. It's surprisingly warm in here."

:For Drachma?: Gavril teased gently. :Yes, it does tend to get that way with this many people in the hall. Would you like some air?:

:Yes, please.: Air, and a different view.

Gavril slipped his arm easily around hers, and escorted her off the dance floor. :There's a lovely view of the gardens from the terrace. Do you like lilies?:

* * *

><p>:If I take one more turn, I think my feet might fall off,: Talya chuckled as she leaned against Roy's shoulder, sipping champagne. :You are an unending fountain of energy.:<p>

:Requirement to be a State Alchemist,: Roy grinned, taking a drink.

Talya's eyes lit up. :I can imagine. Well, I do hope you're happy. You've danced me right out of my shoes.: Her high heels sat on the floor beside her nylon-covered feet. :I see your little friend seems to have given up on dancing as well.:

:Friend?: Roy looked up, wondering who Talya meant, until he realized that Trisha had completely disappeared.

:Oh, relax,: Talya chuckled, smiling up at him. :She and Gav headed out the door almost half an hour ago.:

Out the… "Who's Gav?"

:Gavril Mihalov, the Chairman's nephew,: she replied, apparently not bothered by his reversion to Amestrian. :Oh don't worry. Gav's an excellent host. And a perfect gentleman.:

Except that the way she said that implied something completely different. :Is that so.:

:Jealous?:

:No,: Roy replied, probably a little too forcefully, but his heart was starting to pound. Their first night here and Trisha had vanished with some Drachman guy. :I'll be right back.: He started across the room towards the general direction Talya had gestured when she commented about heading out the door. He could see a set of open double-doors that led out into the night air and a lit balcony of some sort.

Almost as soon as he came out on the balcony he could see Trisha at the far end, looking out over the gardens, with Gavril's arm around her shoulders. Anger surged through him, and before Roy could think, he was across the balcony, his hand pulling that arm away from Trisha's shoulders, and Trisha was turning, and staring at him. Gavril looked surprise.

It was Trisha's cold "What are you doing?" that gave him pause.

"Don't… you shouldn't be out here," Roy changed what he'd been going to say mid-thought. Insulting the Chairman's nephew would not be the smartest way to end the evening. "It's chilly."

"I'm quite warm enough, thank you, Firestorm," Trisha replied with a flat, warning stare.

Gavril looked between them.

"Trisha, don't do this."

"What? Enjoy myself while extended the hand of diplomatic friendship?"

"That's not what I meant."

"Then what do you mean?"

His temper flickered around the edges of his brain. "Damn it, Trisha! What are you trying to prove?"

"Nothing." Trisha turned to face him fully, crossing her arms and glaring at him. "I was just enjoying a pleasant conversation. What are _you_ trying to prove? That you're pig-headed?"  
>Gavril stepped forward. :Look… Mustang isn't it? I was just showing Miss Heimler the gardens. I-:<p>

"Stay out of this," Roy growled. Apparently Gavril understood Amestrian, because his shut his mouth, but looked irritated.

"That's enough." Trisha met Roy's eyes with a daring anger as she slipped her arm into Gavril's. :Let's go,: she said more civilly to Gavril. :I think I'd like a refreshment.:

Roy watched her go, flummoxed. She's been practically begging to talk to him before they left, but the silence between them on the trip up… he'd thought she'd get over it. This wasTrisha. She never stayed unreasonable for long. Right?

Roy took several slow deep breaths and then followed them inside. As he stepped through the door, he noticed they were already half way across the room. Several people glanced at him, then glanced away.

Great, so they'd been heard. Pretending nothing was out of the ordinary, Roy headed back towards where he had left Talya. When he got there, she and her shoes were gone. It took a moment to spot her, talking animatedly with a couple of young Drachman gentlemen about what sounded like a recent political event.

Roy picked up his glass. It was going to be a long night.

* * *

><p>They were barely inside the door of the Embassy after dinner when Trisha turned on him and started shouting. "Just what did you think you were <em>doing<em>?" she asked incredulously. "Were you _trying_ to start an international incident?"

"What I…" Roy stammered, heat rising to his face. "I wasn't the one plastered _all over_ ice boy!"

"No you were just getting _plastered_ with the breasts in the purple dress."

"I was not!" Roy objected, glaring down into her determined, furious face. "And don't you talk about her like that."

"Why not?" Trisha was in full-throttle now. "Afraid I'll hurt her feelings?"

"_That is enough both of you!"_

Roy froze mouth still half-open as the Shock Alchemist inserted himself bodily between them and pushed them back several feet.

Closson looked ready to start spitting lightning bolts. "Now I have no idea what's going on here lately, but the last thing we need on this mission is an out of control lovers' quarrel!"

"We're not lovers," Trisha quipped flatly.

Closson's face only got darker. "Semantics aside, Whisper, the two of you need to take your personal business _quietly_ elsewhere and _deal with it. _If you can't do that much I'll ship you both home at the first opportunity. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Sir," they chorused.

Roy tried to meet Trisha's eyes, but she avoided him, looking down and away as she moved past him toward the stairs.

Roy turned for a moment, debating whether to follow or just go to his room, when Closson's eyes caught his. "Yes, Lieutenant Colonel?"

"What's going on between the two of you, Mustang?" Closson asked, a little more quietly, as the other soldiers stopped staring and started moving off as well.

Roy hadn't even noticed them. "Right now? Absolutely nothing, Sir."

"You know what I mean."

"Yes, Sir, I do." Roy shrugged, feeling the fight slowly draining from him. "I'm just not sure I can explain it right now." Not in a way that wasn't going to make the situation more complicated anyway. His head was beginning to swim just a little, from going between the heat and the warmth so often he suspected. Or maybe it was the vodka and champagne. Not that he'd ever admit that to Trisha. "Permission to go to bed, Sir?" He didn't have night guard duty, thank goodness.

Closson looked like he wanted to ask another question, but he just nodded. "Permission granted."

Roy escaped with as much dignity as he could muster; ignoring the looks of the others still in the hallway as he walked to the room he was sharing with Lieutenant Tom Bordeau. The blond man was already inside, sprawled on his bed reading a book when Roy walked in.

Roy avoided his eyes too. He didn't want to talk about it. Because if he did, he was afraid he'd say aloud the two words that had been floating around unpleasantly in his head for days now. He didn't want to acknowledge them because right now, as angry as he was; he wasn't quite ready to admit _it's over._

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note: 42/2012. Let there be intrigue and angst! For those who have been following this long, today's post actually reaches a 'first.' I am, after four years, actually out of 'buffer' for the moment. Which means this is actually the post I finished writing this past week instead of something written months or even weeks ago. Still have tons of notes, and plenty of story left, and shall continue to plug away, I just don't have a pile waiting ahead of me. So here is my new challenge, to get back to not only keeping up with weekly chapter writing (difficult lately. The last six months of real life have been complicated) but also building a buffer back up for the busy weeks! If only I could transmute chapters into being. ;)  
><em>


	5. Chapter 5

**June 28****th****, 1973**

"How do people keep warm around here?" Urey griped from the seat behind Ed as Ed drove the truck down a rutted mountain road into the valley below, which was dotted with a few farmhouses and what looked like an actual town down along the river. It was still fairly early in the day, and the chilly weather had everyone's breath coming in wisps of white that threatened to fog up the windows.

"Easy," Cal retorted with a dry laugh. "Heavy food, liquor, and sex."

In the rear-view mirror, Ed could see Urey's cheeks turn red.

"Speaking from experience?" Ed asked flatly, and stifling the urge to say the comment wasn't appropriate. Urey was seventeen. If he was man enough to come on this mission, than he was man enough to hear just about anything that might come out of Cal's mouth.

That didn't mean Ed's memories of Tore's changes in the war weren't foremost in his mind at that moment.

"Well isn't that how you kept warm?" Cal retorted, referring to the war.

"Mostly the first one," Ed said, focusing on the road as it made a particularly sharp turn. He'd quit drinking by then, and spent far too much of the war away from Winry. "Same as most." Not that any of those three options had been available to them of late. Ed was getting tired of road rations and the cheapest food they could get at road-side inns. They were playing broke and down on their luck, so they had to eat like it.

"Just think about how good it will be to get home when it's over," Al grinned from the front passenger side seat.

"Before the adventure's even over?" Cal asked with a look of disappointment.

"You saying you don't already miss Alyse…and her cooking?" Ed challenged him.

Cal looked contrite. "Well I didn't say _that_!"

Urey was grinning now. "Well I for one don't mind admitting I already miss the cooking back home. Anyone's cooking!" His stomach growled loudly in agreement.

Ed was reminded of the dream he'd had last night, which involved Winry serving him a gourmet meal… wearing nothing but her favorite apron. He decided not to say anything.

The truck trundled around the last turn and they came out into the softer rolling hills of the valley floor, running between the jagged peaks on both sides.

"Well hopefully where we'll going will have decent food," Al suggested, though he didn't look like he believed it. Where-ever all these people were going to find work, chances were they weren't living very long; not if the rumors about the types of alchemy that were being performed were true.

"We'll find out soon." The town came into better view, spreading out along both sides of the narrow, fast-running river that carved its way down the valley.

Ed pulled in to the parking lot of a little run-down corner store looking place; the kind of place that sold newspapers, soda pop, and gossip. At least, it did in Amestris. Ed hoped Drachma was at least that similar. It had proven to work so far to assume that the back mountain areas of Drachma weren't that different from Cal's coal mining folks, or the small town country folk in Resembool.

:All right,: Ed shifted back to Drachman even as he dropped his voice. :Let's play it casual. Remember, we're looking for work. We heard about an opportunity offering work for fair pay. We'll see what they say.: That was what the rumors they'd picked up on said; cheap labor. :Remember, we just travelled up here together sharing the car.:

:We remember,: Urey replied with a roll of his eyes. They had the act down cold by now.

They got out, Ed and Al walking in first, with Cal and Urey following them several seconds later. Ed could hear their footsteps behind him as he looked around, knowing he would look foreign, and okay with that. They were supposed to be outsiders.

The man behind the rough-wood counter looked up from where he was inventorying cans of Drachman soda. :Can I help you gentlemen?: he asked in the slower accent Ed had gotten used to as 'country Drachman.'

:Sure can,: Ed sauntered up to the counter and pulled out a few Drachman coins. :Four drinks and a bit of information.:

The man sized them up then grinned. :Hard or soft, and let me guess, you're here looking for work.:

Ed pretended to look surprised. :Yeah. Things are rough down south. We heard rumors of work up this way, and soft. Best to make a good impression on a new boss.:  
>The man laughed, but didn't seem to think it odd that they didn't want to drink mid-morning. Ed had been counting on that. He accepted and paid for the four colas and passed them around.<p>

:Well, you'll be wanting Drachman National Alchemical,: he informed them as he put the money in the register.

:Alchemical?: Ed turned to stare at the guy, honestly surprised.

:Didn't you know?: The man shook his head as if to say 'silly southerners.' :National Alchemical's the biggest alchemy research facility in Drachma. Their work in methods for improving crop growth and yields these last couple of years has been amazing. That's what they need the labor for; harvesting all the experimental crops they've been growing. They started selling their first batch of grain seed last year, and everyone around here's yield nearly doubled.:

:You don't say.: Ed was glad the man hadn't taken his surprise for what it was; surprise that there was no secret alchemy lab. It was completely public! Wouldn't that mean the government was behind this place, with a name like Drachman National?

:Works for us,: Cal cut in with a grunt and a shrug. :Farm labor's better than no labor.:

:That's the truth,: the store owner nodded. :Well if that's what you're wanting, National's the place. It's about twenty miles upriver. You'll find a fork in the road. Take a left, go through the pass, and you'll be there.:

:Thanks for the directions,: Ed replied sincerely. He was glad they hadn't had to dig for the information. This might be easier than he'd expected. :So they never turn anyone down?:

:Not that I've heard of,: he shook his head. :They've got a whole valley up that way they're cultivating. That's about all I know.:

Which was quite a lot more than they had before arriving. Ed thanked him again, and they waited around a few minutes, leisurely finishing their sodas so they wouldn't look in too much of a hurry. That, and Ed knew they were all enjoying being out of that rust-bucket truck. With all the jostling around, Ed wasn't sure his joints –auto-mail or otherwise- were ever going to forgive him.

"You think he's telling the truth?" Urey asked when they were back in the car. "About this Alchemical company being government funded and doing farm research? Nothing sounds fishy about that."

"Well, it's probably true," Ed said after a minute. "But I think it's probably also a cover. If the government is funding alchemical research still, after the war they can't exactly claim it's for military purposes can they? Now, helping the economy and the common people, that's exactly what they ought to be doing, so it makes a very good story."

"And they might actually be doing that," Al added. "But Ed's right. It would make a very convenient cover for the kind of research we're here looking for."

"And they're not lying about the good crops," Cal chimed in. "Did you take a look at the locals?"

Urey looked confused. "Well sort of, in passing. Why?"

"They're all pretty darned well fed for poor farm folk in a country that nearly fell apart along with its economy after it lost the war."

Ed had noticed that. He nodded. "Yeah. It's a good thing we've seen a lot of half-starved folk on the way up here, or I'd be worried we'd look out of place."

"You thought we were too thin?" Al asked, looking amused.

"That kind of thing can matter when you're trying to fit in," Ed pointed out. "Not that it would have done me any good. I'm probably the only guy in this car who'd look half-starved if he spent a week at a feast table."

His comment was met with a chorus of protests.

"You had to drag us somewhere cold in the summer _after_ I lose all that weight," Urey grumbled in the back.

"You'll get used to freezing," Ed assured him with a chuckle. "Just be glad it doesn't look like it matters, and let's think about how we're going to get in this place."

"Well it doesn't look like we'll have to sneak in," Al said contemplatively. "If we show up looking for work, they'll let us walk right in."

"But then they know we're here," Cal pointed out. "We should see what kind of security they have before we make up our minds."

"Which means we should park a few miles out and do a little reconnaissance," Ed nodded, his mood turning thoughtful now that they were mere miles from their objective. It was just strange to be here and not hear anything odd. No disappearances. No one never coming back from this place. The locals certainly were happy to have DNA around. It was possible there really wasn't something going on.

Or maybe they'd been paid off with that good seed.

It was also possible that the information had been laid specifically to lure alchemists. "Maybe it's a trap."

"Now there's a leap of logic," Urey commented.

"But it makes sense." Cal at least, seemed to have picked up on Ed's train of thought. "Plant information about philospher's stones, homunculi, chimeras…all the magic words. Whatalchemist wouldn't want to come check it out?"

"They want people willing to try human transmutation." Al nodded. "If that's what they're after, than they'd want other alchemists to do their work for them, and plenty of bodies to make into the stones. Work brings sacrifices of both types."

Ed cringed. "Good thing we're not showing up claiming to be alchemists."

* * *

><p>Despite the tension in his shoulders, Urey felt pretty good about his ability to keep up as the four alchemists made their way over the ridge and down through the trees towards Drachman National Alchemical. Through the thick pine forest, Urey could occasionally catch glimpses of huge expanses of fields.<p>

Of course, he was keeping up with two old men and a Colonel with an auto-mail leg, but given who they were, Urey was pretty sure it was still worth bragging rights of some kind.  
>Still, he had a stitch in his side and was trying not to pant too hard by the time Grandpa Ed waved them all around him and to slow down and move silently.<p>

Urey moved in beside Cal, who looked as if he was sweating at least as much as Urey was. He turned his attention to the edge of the forest as he realized they were at the top of a ridge overlooking the fields below.

The expanse was huge, reaching out at least two miles across the valley floor to the land on the other side, and out of sight in either direction. In the dead center of the valley was a huge complex of buildings that looked, he thought, rather like long low dormitories, except for the building in the middle, which stood at least four stories high; an imposing square of dark stone with almost no windows to speak of.

"That's our target," Ed whispered. "Look at this place. There's got to be thousands of people working here."

Urey looked closer, noticing people moving about the fields, which were thick with fast growing summer crops; wheat mostly, though there was a large expanse of vegetable garden to the South-East side, off to Urey's right. "How many alchemists do you think there are?" he asked. The laboratory in front of him wasn't quite as big as the alchemical laboratories in Central, but it was almost the size of one. There could be dozens of alchemists in there.

His heart pounded harder, but it had nothing to do with the climb. Suddenly what they were doing was painful real. It had been almost easy to forget, driving through the countryside, that this wasn't some kind of odd vacation or training. Urey wanted to be a research alchemist, not unlike some of the research this place apparently claimed to be doing. But here he was in the middle of what amounted to a military operation in all but name. If he died here, would they ever tell his parents why?

Urey didn't want to die.

_So don't._ He shook himself. _Grandpa trained you to be better than that. He says you're almost as good as he was… okay so that's when he was fourteen, but he was amazing at fourteen right? _

"So I think we should stick with the plan," Great-Uncle Al commented softly, and the four of them drew back into the trees. "Ed and I will go in first, and then Cal and Urey can come in a couple of hours later. That way it will seem like we showed up separately."

"Urey," Ed turned his head and looked at him, catching and holding his gaze with a serious expression. "I want you to let on that you're good with vegetables. _Really_ good. Play it up like you just think you're unnaturally good with them."

"You want them to think I might have alchemical talent."

"Exactly." Ed nodded. "Cal, you can back up that story. It might be a way to get one or two of us inside that laboratory without arousing suspicions. Al and I will play farmer and see what we can learn in the fields."

"I hope you know as much about farming as you've been claiming," Cal commented.

Al and Ed both grinned as Al shrugged. "You've seen Resembool."

* * *

><p>It took nearly an hour to get back to the truck. It was decided that Ed and Al would take the truck in, and Cal and Urey would come in on foot claiming to have hitchhiked if asked, after their own vehicle had –supposedly- broken down.<p>

Which meant standing around waiting for two hours before walking into the area which was very well guarded at road level.

Cal spent most of it going over the plan with Urey, who was holding up well all things considering.

"So I'll play it up so the alchemy almost seems accidental," Urey finished going over his part of the plan. "If they want a demonstration, I'll mix up some particularly potent fertilizer that would make things grow better out here. Frankly, it wouldn't be all that hard." Urey shrugged. "Then, hopefully, they'll take enough interest to let me, or hopefully both of us, inside."

It seemed so simple, if it worked. Cal sighed and shook his head. "You do realize Ed's using you as the bait?"

Urey gave him an irritated look. "Yeah, I'd figured that out."

"That doesn't bother you?"

"No, does it bother you?"

"Not really," Cal relented. "Necessity above family I guess."

"Hey," Urey grinned. "If you can't trust your family to be part of your crazy schemes, who can you trust?"

Damn, he really was an Elric to the core. Cal had been worrying about Urey being up to the challenge, but somewhere while he wasn't really paying attention, the kid had grown up. He might be uneasy, but there was an underlying confidence that hadn't been there when he was younger, and that Cal hadn't actually seen in many kids that age. It wasn't cockiness covering nerves, like Tore had exhibited so often.

"You've got a point." Cal straightened up, stretching his auto-mail leg. "Now, come on, bait. Let's go see what kind of fish we can catch."

**July 2****nd****, 1973  
><strong>

It was years of practice that kept the pleasant, professional smile on Tore's face as he, along with the rest of the security detail, walked with the Amestrian delegation across the grounds of the Drachman government district to a large building that looked like it may have once been a manor house –or at least an outlying building- but they had been informed was now more of a glorified storehouse for important items. In this case, a gift that Drachma wished to give Amestris in good faith as a gesture of friendship and hope for a profitable outcome of this treaty for both countries.

Ambassadors Gallen, Yolst, and Parkins, followed Chairman Gurina, his nephew, and the Drachman official delegates for the negotiations –Valhov and Rashan- across the manicured grass, with the Amestrian and Drachman security details surrounding. Not that they had brought out full security; there were five members of each security team in evidence; enough to cover everyone should there be some kind of incident. Though so far the visit had been –thankfully- uneventful.

It was a far cry better than Tore's first experience with a diplomatic envoy to Drachma. So far no one had been attacked, raped, or had someone attempt to turn them into a chimera. Though he would have been much happier if his "hand-picked" security team had been a little more cohesive.

Everyone seemed to be getting along on his first major mission in charge, except the two alchemists he had expected to be the strong backbone of his team. Tore still had very little idea just what had caused the rift between Roy and Trisha; given he'd had no warning before leaving town from anyone in the family, that was saying something. But it was frustrating to watch. This was the worst place to be dealing with a relationship spat.

For the past couple of days Firestorm and Whisper had been perfect State Alchemists; utterly professional in public, doing their work with the others without a single problem. The problem was that they were no longer speaking to each other unless the situation absolutely required it.

:Here we are,: Chairman Gurina smiled jovially as one of his aides opened the door and led them all inside the building. :I do hope you will find this… adequate.:

It was only years of experience that kept Tore from gasping a little –his intake of breath silent- as they walked into a lit room full of boxes, and baskets full of what, in his younger days, he would have called treasure or loot.

The room was packed with all sorts of expensive items that would have cost a fortune in import taxes alone in Amestris; woven tapestries possibly hundreds of years old, fine fur garments, bottles of some very old vintages of alcohol, as well as pieces of furniture carved ornately and leafed in gold. There were plenty of items like that, and more. Though the rest of the area was stacked with closed boxes, which told Tore where the gift to Amestris ended, and who knew how much more began.

Tore's focus returned to the room as he scanned it, and understood why they had requested they bring the security teams. The building had folks standing guard already, but transported this back to the embassy later was definitely going to make it a tempting target for any opportunistic thief.

:This is exquisite,: Ambassador Gallen complimented a painting, as Yolst examined the date on a bottle of vodka.

:These are just some of the things we would like to include in our trade agreement,: Gurina explained as he moved from one Ambassador to the next, smiling and politicking. :Of course, these particular items are gifts, from our government to yours; but also samples of the fine quality of goods we would like to be able to trade once more with your country freely.:

:My wife would love one of these.:

Tore glanced over to one side, where two of his team were admiring –just with their eyes- an exquisite white fur coat. Tore could imagine Charisa in that; she'd look amazing, if she were one to wear a lot of fur. Since her mother had been allergic to animal fur, Charisa had never really taken to wearing anything made of fur.

:Your generosity is most gracious,: Yolst assured him. :I am sure President Rehnquist will be as awed and honored as we are.:

:Then I am-" Gurina stopped as the ground shuddered underneath their feet.

:What's that?: Ambassador Parkins looked up.  
>Tore's legs tensed underneath him. The shake stopped. What was that? An earthquake… no. Something in his gut instincts told him otherwise.<p>

A moment later he knew why as a roar of flame erupted in the back of the building.

:Everybody out!: Chairman Gurina shouted, bolting for the door with his aides and the others in tow. The Amestrians were right behind him, except for the Alchemists.  
>Tore didn't have to look to know that Firestorm and Whisper were already in action; following the Drachman security who were running towards the flame with fire extinguishers in hand. Fools… there was no way those could handle this!<p>

But they could.

Tore yanked his gloves out of his pocket, pulled them on, and grabbed the first lightswitch he came to… immediately shutting off the power to the building. Though it didn't go dark; not with the high windows at the top of the walls and the fire roaring towards them; devouring a warehouse full of very flammable goods. If it blew…

It was difficult to get to the fire, and there wasn't much time. Wooden furniture was already eaten in flames; fabric curtains, clothes, bottles of alcohol all lent it fuel. Smoke billowed black and thick up at the top of the ceiling, for now high and creeping out the cracks in the old windows, but Tore knew it would only been minutes –if that- before there was no air left to breathe. Maybe they should have gone out with the others.

"Take it left!" Roy shouted.

"No right!" Trisha argued as the two nearly ran into the end of the pathway and a wall of boxes.

"It'll be faster if we—"

"Go up!" Tore barked the order. There was no time to bicker!

"Yes, Sir," they both barked, and began to climb.

Fight or no; Tore watched as Roy bounded up the piles of goods, and using his own gloves, seemed to take control of the fire, right before Trisha dropped to the ground in front of him, chalk out, drawing a circle on the floor.

The smoke surged and billowed, and for a moment Tore couldn't see them through the flames, and the fire, creeping around below them to eat through the wall. He ran towards them, ready to use alchemy to block the fire and give them a few more seconds.

Moments later the glow of Trisha's transmutation bathed her in blue light, hard to see through the thick blackening smoke; and the fire simply… smothered and went out in one great gasp like a dying beast.

The room shuddered, and Tore had a moment to become aware his heart thudding in his chest as everything went momentarily still.  
>Voices, shouting in Drachman, reached him. But Tore was moving forward again, scrambling up the pile of boxes trying to locate the two alchemists. The smoke was clearing out again, lifting.<p>

And there, as Tore grappled his way to the top, were Roy and Trisha, nose to nose… glaring at each other.

"That was some of the sloppiest work you've ever done," Trisha growled. "You call that containment?"

"Given how big it was already… yes, I do," Roy retorted, face red and streaked with soot. He coughed. "It's not my fault if it was too big for you."

"It wasn't!" Trisha exclaimed. "I smothered it didn't I?"

Tore's relief floated out the window with the smoke. "Will you two give it a break?" he barked. "The fire's out, that's what matters. Now we've got to find out what's going on..and make sure everyone else got out safely."

By the time they got outside, the fire department had actually arrived, and everyone was milling about outside, though Gurina and all the Ambassadors seemed to have developed triple security in those few minutes. Tore was glad to see the rest of his team was exactly in the formation they ought to be and no one appeared to be injured.

"What happened?" Tore asked, as he noticed that the place was also swarming with Drachman police, and what looked like an investigation unit. Looking up at the building, the plume of dark smoke against the gray sky was impressive.

Gurina's face, and that of his nephew, looked equally furious, but it was the nephew, Gavril, who spoke first. :Sabotage.:


	6. Chapter 6

**July 3****rd****, 1973 **

Tore was beginning to think his headache would never go away. He sat in Chairman Gurina's office, with Ambassador Yolst, Drachman Ambassador Valhov, and Gurina's nephew, already going on less than four hours of sleep the night before. The Drachmans had been willing –at Gurina's express suggestion- to allow the State Alchemists as part of the investigation team looking into what was clearly a case of sabotage.

There hadn't been any attempt made to take or hide the gasoline soaked rags, or the gas cans, behind the building. Interesting that, though there had been little else to go on; no fingerprints, no foot prints in the hard-packed dirt out back. Whoever it was clearly wanted everyone to know they had done it, but not who they were.

:So tell me,: Yolst said. :Just _why_ did someone try to burn us all up yesterday.: From his tone, Tore knew he assumed the same obvious answer Tore had; there were elements of the Drachman government who were not nearly as interested in a renewed trade agreement between Amestris and Drachma as those in power.

Gurina looked uncomfortable. :I'm afraid there's not much we can tell you that you haven't already learned from your investigation, Ambassador. I admit, that not everyone in Drachma is as pleased with Amestris' agreement to open full trade negotiations again, but then what country has ever been unified in its goals and opinions?: His eyes pleaded, softly, for understanding.

:We understand very well, Chairman,: Yolst replied diplomatically. :But that doesn't solve this problem. Do you have any idea who could have planned this?:

:Only vaguely,: Gurina admitted. :There are a couple of smaller groups of dissidents who have made their dislike clear, but they have no real authority or backing, and no money to represent themselves fully. They are of little power or consequence. We've heard them out,: he assured them, :But we've already sent investigators to question their leadership and their members. There aren't many of them, and that has turned up nothing.:

Tore watched Gavril during the talk; Gurina's nephew nodded, but said little; odd given how talkative he had been at other times.

:And those are our only leads?: Tore spoke up, hoping it wouldn't be taken out of turn. He might be heading up security, but he was a State Alchemist. :It wouldn't take much money to start that fire. The materials were inexpensive, but what about motive? Is there anyone else who wouldn't want you trading with Amestris?: He looked sideways at Gavril as he spoke.

:To be fair,: Gavril spoke up. :Several of the old families aren't all that thrilled about it either, except that they are desperate to regain wealth. It seems unlikely that they would ever risk destroying so many expensive items. Several of them were donations from those families.:

_Good cover, but I honestly don't think that's everything._ Call it instinct, but Tore had gone off those plenty of times and been right. :Understandable,: he replied noncommittally. He'd have to have someone question Gavril in more detail later, when he was more off-guard. In fact, he'd noticed that Gurina's nephew seemed to have taken a liking to Trisha. With only a mild twinge of guilt, Tore made a mental note to have the Whisper Alchemist look the other guy up sometime soon.

* * *

><p>"This isn't getting us anywhere," Alphonse whispered so softly that no one other than Edward could have heard or understood him. If they had, they'd have thought it was the wind. He was grateful there was a strong breeze tonight.<p>

Okay so it was more like a howling wind; but it passed for a breeze at night in the valley. Al had already heard stronger pounding heavily at the rickety walls of the barracks-style buildings the workers lived in.

"You're just saying that because we're not there yet," Ed retorted, leaning up against the wall of the exterior of the alchemical laboratory. He peaked carefully around the corner. Al, behind him, waited, trying to keep his patience as he kept his eyes on the way they had come. It wouldn't do any good for their reconnaissance if they were caught while they were snooping around.

Fortunately for the five days since their arrival, no one had caught them and their cover story seemed to be holding up just find. Of course, that included five back-breaking days of farm labor done the old fashioned way, and Al could feel it in his back and shoulders, and his legs too. But Al refused to admit that retirement or age had anything to do with it. It wasn't like he didn't keep in shape, or spar with Ed or Will, depending on where he was.

Besides, Ed was hurting at least as much, if not more, than he was. Al might have taken satisfaction in that if it weren't for the fact that Ed griped about it more openly, and part of that pain was the expected aches of his auto-mail ports. That wasn't Ed's fault.

"I really think we should go back," Al repeated his earlier words of caution. There were more guards tonight. They had dodged four patrols already. "They must know something's up."

"Or they're up to something big," Ed countered. "And they don't want anyone getting past security."

Which they already had, repeatedly. "Still, we know we can't get in, and that vent is too small for both of us."

He was referring to the vent half-way between their hiding place and the guards by the side doorway. They had spotted it two days ago, but this was their first chance to sneak off after dinner without being noticed. New folks, it seemed, were always assigned "special details" like cleaning the bathrooms. A very small use of alchemy to whip that up, and they'd had over an hour to sneak around. And no one tried to use the bathrooms when they were being cleaned. The usual chemicals stank to high heaven.

"I'm not sure whether to be flattered or insulted," Ed hissed back.

Al grinned. "You can think about it back in the bunks. Let's go."

"All right." Ed sighed, then turned and followed Al as they carefully made their way back across the compound, taking advantage of shadows, bushes, anything they could to get back. It was nearly dark, and no one was required to be in the barracks just yet, and that made it far easier. "But it's not fair. That means the only way in really is that front door and this side one."

A front door big enough to open both sides and drive large trucks through, and a side door metal reinforced and always armed with at least two guards.

Not that they couldn't take out the guards, but doing it for the sake of taking a look around without a plan would be a sure tip off that someone was here that they didn't want to have snooping around. Having the Drachmans even more on guard was the last thing they needed.

They arrived back at Barrack Building H –their lovely unpainted wooden hovel-away-from-home- and went inside. Dinner was long over, and most of the men inside were already sacked out on their bunks asleep, or sitting in small groups between the rows upon rows of bunk beds, talking quietly, playing cards. Someone had scored vodka and was passing it around.

Al was glad that they had come when they had. They had gotten bunks right by the door. This meant they were colder, and there was a chill breeze every time someone came in or out, but it also meant it was a lot easier to sneak in and out without being noticed.

:Now what?: he asked quietly as he kicked off his shoes and clambered into the top bunk, switching back to Drachman.

He heard Ed lying down below him, the bed creaking loudly. It was easy to converse in here without being heard. Nothing was quiet. :Now we sleep on it and try and think of something else.: Ed replied.

:They've got to get supplies sometime,: Al suggested. :Maybe we can sneak in on, or under, a delivery truck.: They might not get food, and they might not be getting trucks of people up from Aerugo anymore –he'd seen dozens of transplanted Aerugeans up here, though he hadn't dared to tell them that their rescue might be imminent- but they had to be getting the rest of their alchemical ingredients from somewhere.

:Maybe,: Ed replied around a heavy yawn. :It's certainly an idea worth considering.:

* * *

><p>Edward had been staring wide-eyed up at the sagging mattress above him for nearly half a minute before he realized it was his own startled shout that had awoken him. His pulse raced and he could see almost nothing in the darkness around him. The dream was still fresh in his mind… <em>Al no… no please! No not again…. <em>

But that was all it was, a dream. Ed took several slow deep breaths, easing his heart, and became aware of Al's face peering over the top of the bunk above.

:Are you all right?: Al asked.

:Yeah…sorry.: Ed wiped the sweat from his brow with his sheet. :Just a nightmare.:

Al's face, very slowly coming visible as Ed's eyes found the tiniest bits of light from the moon leaking through cracks in the walls, showed concern. :About what?:

:The past,: Ed replied. That should be enough. The longer they were here –the more he could feel the huge amounts of alchemical energy pouring out of that building night and day- the worse it got. Ed hadn't thought much about those days in years… decades really. But it was all coming back as he and Al drilled each other for hours on what they had known then; all the rules of human transmutation, what they had learned about red water, about how to make homunculi using the red stones. :Everything we had to fix.: He didn't dare say any of it out loud.

Al clearly got it, because he winced. :You called my name.:

:Yeah.: Ed nodded. :And Mom's?: he asked, though he was fairly sure he knew the answer. Talking in his sleep had always been a foible of his, especially when he was upset. Winry had teased him about it for years.

:Yeah.: Al looked sympathetic. :I haven't been sleeping well either,: he admitted.

:Hey you two…shut up and go to sleep,: someone grunted a couple of beds over.

:Sorry,: Al replied. Then his face vanished.

Ed sighed and readjusted his lumpy pillow and thick, scratchy wool blanket. At least it was warm. They definitely needed to get inside and get this figured out soon. If they really were trying to make chimeras and philosopher's stones and homunculi in there…he was seriously going to bang some heads against those concrete walls.

**July 4****th****, 1973**

_Make it look natural, but unnatural, of course._ Urey grumbled to himself as he bent over the rows of beans he had been put in charge of six days before. He was getting really tired of stooping over the plants and tending them day after day. Of course, he supposed that if he was a starving Drachman farmer for real, this wouldn't seem at all like the dull back-breaking work he found it compared to his usual summers spent studying alchemy with Grandpa Ed, pouring through books, lounging in that wonderful pool….

_Man, we really do have it good. _He was softer than he thought, if this seemed like a rough week, even with all that sparring practice.

Urey looked at the beans. Compared to the rows next to his –which Cal was in charge of- and the others around him, his were definitely growing the best. And it wasn't just because he had a green thumb –which he did- but because he had been, very subtly, using alchemy to coax his to be just that much bigger, healthier, and greener than the ones around them. It was a difference of a couple of inches, bigger leaves, and the blossoms on the plants were large and healthy.

What he had actually done was take the fertilizer he'd been given to use, and adjusted it ever so slightly using alchemy. There was enough energy pouring out of the main building that the smallest amounts would probably go unnoticed. Though, in this case, he didn't want to go unnoticed.

The whole idea was to get caught as an unknowing natural talent. After all these years, Urey thought the hardest task he'd ever been set was looking like he _didn't_ know a lick about alchemy and was doing it instinctively.

Because it wasn't really instinctive, but the Drachmans didn't all seem to know that. They seemed to think you were born with alchemy or you weren't. Of course, he had to admit there might be something to that, he thought as he gave another plant an extra bit of nutrients, then watered it. Some people, no matter how much they read, couldn't do a lick of alchemy, while it did come naturally to others. Like the difference between himself and Coran. His brother had wanted to learn alchemy so much when he was a kid, but no matter how he tried, he had never mastered more than the basics. Whereas Urey felt he hadn't come close to tapping the full extent of his abilities yet, and from what Grandpa said, he hadn't.  
>He had a plan, and he had for over a year. College, study botany and the newer elements of medical chemistry that he could apply, and then go work for the state as a State Alchemist, but a research alchemist in pharmaceutical alchemy. He could help make the medicines people like Uncle Ethan were creating, and maybe create a few of his own. Alchemy to help people in whole new ways. It was a great dream… he just had to get home in one piece.<p>

:Hey you.:

Urey froze, then unbent very slowly, stood, and turned to look at the hulking Drachman guard behind him. :Yes, sir?: he asked, trying not to sound frightened –which he wasn't- but deferential.

:What are you doing to your plants?:

Urey decided to play dumb. :What do you mean? I haven't hurt them. Just watered and fertilized them like you said.:

:Then why are they bigger than everyone else's?:

:I dunno, sir. They just grow like that; like me I guess. They did it at home too. I mean, I mixed up the fertilizer some so it would be better, more like what I make at home myself, but…:

:That's enough.: The man held up a leather-gloved hand. :Come with me.:

:What for?: Urey asked, his heart starting to pump. This was it. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Cal watching him, carefully, through the plants.

:They want to talk to you, inside.:

Urey made no further attempts to fight; hoping that looking cowed and curious and slightly nervous would be enough to pass muster as a farm boy with no real idea of what was going on here other than agricultural alchemy. :Should I come now?:

:Yes, that's the idea.:

* * *

><p>It was all Cal could do to resist bolting from cover the moment Urey was escorted away, and go find Ed and Al. This was it; the bait had been taken. Though what they didn't know was how the alchemists inside would actually react. Would they assume Urey was what he seemed to be? A country bumpkin with a natural aptitude for farming related alchemy… or a spy.<p>

_Not sure if it's lucky or unlucky the kid's technically both._ Cal made himself keep working, though the sweat on his neck wasn't the only thing that made it prickle. It was difficult to pretend he didn't really know what was going on here, or at least that he had suspicions. A lot of the people working here were honestly happy. Or at least, they said they were. Though Cal had noticed that they all seemed to be bunked in the same buildings. The Aerugeans he had seen had their own building, their own fields. And there weren't nearly as many of them. Perhaps they kept the people who were bought off the slave market separate so that the willing sacrifices wouldn't know.

How many of these people would be used, sacrificed, for philosopher's stones? Cal could only imagine. Fullmetal and True Soul had said that the largest one they had ever seen took thousands, and that even hundreds were needed to make anything of decent size and stability. How many people had already been lost?

Cal winced as his finger scratched on a wooden posted, and he paused to remove the splinter that had stuck him through his glove. _All this work, and I bet Alyse thinks I've snuck off to a vacation spot or something. _ He hadn't had the heart to tell her the full truth. It was a mission, and he couldn't talk about it. He'd tried to make it sound like it was nothing. Just, you know, sneaking off somewhere with Edward and Alphonse and Urey with no word of where they were going or when they'd be back.

_With Urey along, she'll assume it's nothing too dangerous. _If only he could have told her. If he didn't come back… well, no, he wouldn't think about that. He always beat the odds, and right now, the worst thing that had happened to him was bad Drachman alcohol and a splinter.

Cal looked up at the sky, and hoped Urey was all right. It was a couple of hours until he'd have a chance to speak with Ed and Al at dinner. _Hang in there, kid. Do it just like we rehearsed, and maybe we'll finally have a key as to what's going on…and a way into the building. _

* * *

><p>Urey followed his escort through the side door of the laboratory building, and down a long, bright, well-lit corridor tiled in white and a surprisingly bright red and equally garish green. The Drachmans, he had noticed, seemed to like bright color where they could get it. Given their landscape, he couldn't blame them.<p>

They went down several more corridors, and up a flight of stairs, until they came to a stop in front of an innocuous door, marked only with the Drachman numeral for twenty-three. Urey tried his best to keep track of the turns. He had no other way of knowing how to get out if it came to trouble.

He was led inside. The room was not what he had expected in that, he had expected something like a waiting room, or perhaps an interrogation chamber. Instead, Urey found himself standing in a very standard, though very well equipped, alchemy lab. It wasn't all that unlike the one his Grandpa had back home in Resembool, except that much of the equipment was older, and not quite in as good repair.

:Wait here.: The guard left him there…and walked out, closing the door behind him.

Urey didn't need to turn around to hear the lock click. So here he was, left alone with a room full of alchemy equipment. He wondered, was he being observed? It wouldn't be too off the wall. After all, who wouldn't be curious about the things in this room?

If nothing else, he knew he shouldn't act like he knew what most of these things were. So he adopted a look of mildly astonished curiosity, as he went around the room looking at, but not touching, everything. He tried to look particularly fascinated by an odd microscope in one corner; it wasn't hard, the thing was ancient! Then he sniffed at some of the components… only the ones he happened to know were safe, but decided that wouldn't seem too odd.

He was left alone for nearly ten minutes before the door clicked again, and opened.

Urey turned to watch the man who came into the room; an alchemist judging by the stains on the lab coat he wore over his sweater and slacks.

The man was taller than Urey, and slight of build, with spectacles with large round lenses perched on the end of a very pointy nose. He was hardly as bulky as most of the Drachmans Urey had seen of late. Perhaps he came from a different part of the country.

:Interesting, isn't it?: the man asked. He had a soft voice that was almost friendly. He certainly had an unassuming smile.

:Yeah,: Urey replied, nodding. :What is all this?:

The man's eyes changed for a moment; lightened almost as he seemed to decide that Urey honestly meant the question. Which he did… just not the way the man probably thought.

:This, my boy, is an alchemical laboratory. It's in rooms like this where we design the seeds and fertilizers you and your comrades have been testing outside.:

Urey nodded again, as if he understood. :You wanted to talk to me.: He got to the point.

:Yes. We've noticed that you seem to have a knack for working with plants.:

:Yeah, I do. Is that good?:

:Exceptionally, for our purposes,: the alchemist nodded. :Could you tell me just what you do to your plants to make them grow so much better than the others? Do you do something different with them?:

Oh how carefully to play this out. Urey had gone over it dozens of times in his head, with Cal, with Grandpa and Uncle Al in the car. :Yeah, sort of,: he replied. :I mean, I did what I was told to, with the watering schedule, pruning, fertilizer, hunting for bugs. But there's just something I did back home that always seemed to help. It may seem silly but its… well maybe you can tell me what it is.:

:Possibly,: the alchemist nodded as if he got this kind of request all the time. :What do you need to show me?:

:Dirt,: Urey replied. :Any will do.:

Within a few minutes he was supplied with a small pile of dirt in a pot. It wasn't very good dirt at all actually, which meant he'd have to work harder to make this believable. That was all right, he just nodded like he saw it every day. :And a seed and water?:

:I expected you want those,: the alchemist smiled, producing both from a side table. :Now, show me.:

:All right I… it really is sort of silly,: Urey babbled on like the country boy he was supposed to be. :But I started it when I was small, just a good luck charm my father showed me before he died.: He planted the seed, added a bit of water, and tamped the dirt over it. Then he took his finger and drew a rudimentary –and purposefully wobbly- transmutation circle. :See, he drew it like this. I have to do it from memory of course, but he'd do this. Then he'd ask the sky and sun to bless the plants and he'd touch it like this.: Urey laid his fingers on the circle he'd drawn in the dirt and looked like he was thinking particularly hard. Slowly…very slowly… he let just enough alchemical energy into the dirt to make it viable, fertile soil, and give the plant a little boost. Not much…and he made it purposefully uneven so it would look uncontrolled, but it was enough.

After a couple of minutes he was sweating like he'd run a marathon, and there was a tiny sprout in the pot. Urey wiped his forehead on his sleeve, then looked up at the alchemist with a face that was partially pride and partially worry. :That's it, sir. It's not much, but it helps. Is it… what-you-call-it… is it alchemy?:

That seemed to be just what the man wanted to hear. :Why yes, boy, it is. Tell me, what's your name?:

:Urey, sir.: Thank goodness his name sounded good and Drachman anyway. He wasn't sure he could have remembered anything else in that moment.

:Well, Urey. I am Professor Garrin, and this is my lab,: he introduced himself, holding out his hand. :You seem to have a natural talent for the subject. Have you ever considered becoming an alchemist?:

Urey took the hand –noting the fingers were long and clean, but not nearly as soft underneath as they looked- and shook it back roughly, his eyes wide in disbelief. :An alchemist, sir? No, I hadn't ever really thought about it. I like farming but if I can help that with alchemy than, could you teach me more? Can I help?: The surprise was not feigned…this was the man in charge himself!

:That, Urey, is exactly what I was hoping you would say.:


	7. Chapter 7

**July 4****th****, 1973**

Edward was stiff all over by the time he and Alphonse dropped into chairs in the mess hall at dinner. :I'm starving,: he griped as he looked down at his plate of food. He was getting really tired of beet soup, cabbages, and stringy beef, but that seemed to be a favorite meal around here. :Don't they believe in food around here?:

:This is food,: Al replied, looking amused. :Though I'm getting tired of it too. We should be grateful they're feeding us so well. The bread is good. And there's plenty of that.: He picked up the rough country wheat and ripped off a large hunk.

:Damned optimist,: Ed grumbled, but he ripped off a large chunk of bread for himself and dipped it in the soup.

Al just shrugged. :One of us has to be.:

Ed was mid-bite when he spotted Cal coming towards them through the crowd, with an intense expression. :Well it's not him.:

Al looked up too as Cal joined them, dropping down across from them with a look that seemed to say 'is this the only place left?' Though Ed knew it was an act.

Cal began to eat, taking several bites before muttering, :They took him inside today.:

Ed's pulse quickened. He knew exactly what Cal meant. The plan had worked, and Urey was inside the laboratory. It was a thrilling, and slightly terrifying, moment to think about his seventeen year old grandson in there, going undercover with a lot less practical experience than Ed had at that age. Still, it was too late to change plans now. :They moved two work details today,: he responded. He and Al had spotted them shifting bunks on their way to dinner. This might not have been notable, except that they were moving them into the bunks on the north-west side. Those were the ones the Aerugeans were in, and where Ed suspected they were taking all of their people from for experiments.

Cal nodded. :They took ten guys from our sections.:

:Five from ours,: Al nodded. :They called it reallocation of resources and labor.:

:I'll just bet it is,: Ed grumbled, thinking. If they wanted any chance of keeping any more people from being used in alchemical experiments, than they needed to act quickly. :I think we need to step things up,: he said over the sound of the crust of his bread crunching as he broke off a piece and dipped it in the beet soup.

:How?: Al asked. :We still don't have an entrance point.:

:Sure we do,: Ed commented, a smile spreading across his face as an idea came to him. It was a brilliant….crazy…. possibly insane idea. Which meant it was perfect. :We'll just go in the front.:

Al looked worried. :I don't like that expression. Just how do you plan to do that?:

:That's what I'm wondering,: Cal agreed, looking curiously at Ed.

He couldn't help the maniacal smile. :Why… walk up and knock of course.:

**July 5****th****, 1973**

This wasn't exactly the kind of thing Trisha had expected when she had accepted this mission to Drachma, not on a security detail, but she hadn't been about to tell her superior officer no when given her orders, even if she didn't much like them, and even if that commanding officer was Uncle Tore. He certainly didn't act like it on duty. Funny, she'd never once pictured him as the commanding officer type before becoming a State Alchemist. He never acted that way at family gatherings. Heck, he almost never acted like one in Central.

Trisha came to a stop on the street outside the estate gates, hoping that the guards would let her in. She had called ahead, and Gavril had been more than happy to hear from her, and had invited her to dine with him that evening.

Which had, of course, been the whole idea.

The house was not one of the palatial mansions set back from the road behind large barred gates. Instead it was more of a giant row house, set along the street in the portion of town where many of the nobility from further out in Drachma kept their "city houses." The Gurinas and extended relatives were just such a family, though Trisha had found out from intelligence that the Chairman himself did not live here, but in one of the more palatial estates in a different part of the city. This area had fallen out of favor with many of the noble families as the wealthier merchant class had begun to buy and build in it.

So Trisha rang the bell, and tried to ignore the pounding of her heart. All Tore had asked her to do was have a conversation with Gavril, and try and find out if he actually knew anything more than what he was telling them, because he had a strong inclination –based on observation- that he did.

No one questioned a superior's observations if they wanted to keep their job, and Trisha wouldn't put it past Gavril, no matter how charming he was, not to know far more than he was telling. She'd have bet on it and won, she was sure.

The door opened, and a sour-faced woman in a uniform style black dress looked at her sternly, and for a moment said nothing.

:Good evening,: Trisha finally said, refusing to fidget. : Mr. Mihalov is expecting me.:

:The Amestrian.: The woman nodded shortly and opened the door.

Trisha walked in, but wasn't entirely sure where to go as she stood in the tall foyer, which was open up all three stories of the building, and she could see the stairs going up to each floor. The floor was white marble, and the walls were lined in dark-stained wood, as were the stairs, though the carved details in relieve every other panel were in bright colors.  
>But where was she supposed to go?<p>

"Trisha, you're here!"

She looked up, and spotted Gavril grinning at her from the second floor balcony. :I do try to be on time,: she smiled back at him.

He chuckled. "We can speak in Amestrian. It will be good practice for my… political future."

"All right then," she replied.

"Please, come up," he waved at her. "Dinner's just about ready."

So much for being afraid it would be overly formal. Trisha began to relax. "All right." She moved forward, and went up the staircase, turning at the landing, and eventually came out on the second floor, where Gavril was waiting. "I was beginning to wonder where to go," she admitted with a light laugh.

Gavril shook his head. "Never mind Mrs. Galatinov. She's a protective relic of my uncle's younger days, but she's quite good at her job running the house. But never mind her, welcome to my home away from home. I hope you enjoy the ostentatious but lovely décor. I'm told my grandmother chose every bit of it."

Trisha couldn't help chuckling. He was awfully good at putting people at ease with his charm and relaxed smile. His way with words didn't hurt either. "I feel as if I've walked into a museum display," she admitted. "Though I hope your grandmother would take that as a compliment. I've never seen wall carvings like these."

"And you won't again. The artist who did them only worked in Petrayevka, and every house he did is unique," Gavril offered her one hand as he gestured with the other towards an open doorway. "If you really are into architecture, I can tell you more about it later. Or I'm told there's a great book about all of his architectural paneling and other artistic features for sale in every gift and book shop in the city."

"Maybe I'll pick one up then," Trisha replied as she moved with him into what turned out to be a luxurious sitting room with a small dining table, obviously meant for more private, intimate evenings rather than a full formal dining room. There was also a deep fireplace and richly upholstered couches further back. Being a corner house, the wall to her right was full of windows with luxurious dark green velvet drapes. "This is really fabulous, and I always thought we had a nice home in Central."

"What is your house like?"

"Two stories, with a yard, inside a walled privacy fence," Trisha said as she took her shoulder wrap off and draped it across the back of her dinner chair as Gavril pulled it out. She smiled in thanks and sat. "It's fairly large really, at least as far as houses go. It's got three bedrooms, and a couple of spare rooms that could be bedrooms, but Mom and Dad use them for home office and project space. We've got a big kitchen, and a dining room, and a big sitting room. All the things you'd expect in a house for a whole family, but it's not quite this big."

"That's all right, my parents' home isn't this big either," Gavril admitted, chuckling as he sat down across from her and popped the cork on a bottle of wine. "My Uncle's the one who inherited the family fortune, and this house. My mother got a nice dowry and some property out of it, but my father's well-off enough being his family's only heir that we're not exactly hurting. But he's also a lot thriftier than Uncle. Not that I object to Uncle letting me live here," he added as he poured the wine, and handed her a glass. "It's very generous of him, and I appreciate being so close into the city. I'm much more interesting in politics than my father. Uncle likes to think maybe I take more after his side of the family."

Well, wasn't Gavril conveniently talkative this evening? Trisha sincerely hoped his chatty open mood in private would continue into more sensitive realms of conversation. But she had to play it carefully, no matter how easy it was to simply get drawn into enjoying the evening. "Thank you." She sipped the wine slowly, and was glad there were also water glasses on the table. "And thank you for inviting me over."

"Does your superior know you're here?" Gavril asked curiously.

"Of course not," Trisha scoffed, then smiled conspiratorially. "I told him I was going site seeing since it's my night off duty. This house certainly qualifies doesn't it?"

Gavril laughed. "Yes, I suppose it does. Well I'm flattered you not only accepted, but evading questioning to do so. I hope you like veal."

Trisha looked at the tender meat on her plate and glazed in a light sauce with a side of cooked spring vegetables, all of which smelled tantalizingly delicious. "I love veal."

She did not try and guide or press the conversation through dinner. Instead she continued to trade little harmless bits of information about home, and about their families. She didn't say much about her parents, but she felt freer to tell a couple of stories about her little brother, which paired nicely with Gavril's amusing tales of his experiences with his little sister.

It wasn't until later, when she had barely finished her glass of wine –though she sipped it as often as he did- but was sure Gavril had imbibed at least two or three, and she had just finished chuckling over one of his earthier stories, that she allowed a seemingly innocent comment to fall from her lips. "You know, you really just don't seem much like the old nobility I've met here."

Gavril looked up from his last bite of veal, as if trying to determine what she meant. Then he shrugged and chuckled. "That's probably because I'm not." He sipped his wine. "I mean sure, my blood is what it is, but I don't see things the way my parents or my uncle do. A lot of us don't."

"Us?" Trisha asked.

"The younger generation, if you want to call it that." Gavril leaned back in his chair. "There are a lot of the younger nobility who don't see things the same way. There's a terrible imbalance in the wealth in this country, what little remains, and we have different ideas no how to improve the economy, and Drachma as a whole. Would it shock you, to find out I'm not even a part of my uncle's political party?"

This was exactly the opening Trisha had been waiting for. "Not really," she admitted, smiling. "It's not at all uncommon to think differently than the previous generation. Not where I'm from anyway, and I did say you don't remind me of the rest of the nobility."

"Fair enough." Gavril nodded. "Well there's another party I've been a part of, quietly of course, for quite a while. It's not really a secret, but the nobility don't really take us seriously. We're sort of, progressive."

"So you're the ones behind this trade negotiation?" Trisha nudged.

"We're certainly for it, though I wish we had that much pull," Gavril grinned. "We want to reinvigorate Drachma, but to do that requires changes that not everyone is willing to make. Fortunately, the government is currently in a more open minded mood, even if it is born of desperation."

"And how do you plan to _reinvigorate_ Drachma?" Trisha asked, smiling and demonstrating rapt attention. It wasn't hard.

"You're really interested?" Gavril looked momentarily surprised.

"Well of course I am," Trisha replied. "My family has always taken interest in the good of international policies, and has a soft spot for underdogs," she added, her voice softening just a little.

Gavril seemed to take that as she'd intended; that she had a soft spot for him. He leaned across the table. "We want to even things out. Renewing international trade is the first step. Drachma needs the inflow of money, and the productivity. But we want to do it without losing Drachma's dignity, which is why these negotiations are so important. It needs to be a fair trade between equals, without beggaring Drachma." He began to warm to the subject, clearly eager to discuss it with someone who wanted to listen to his ideas. "And we need to get more of the wealth just sitting around in storehouses like the one you saw, out and distributed among the people. Now, that can be done this way, selling it off and then bringing the money back into the economy. It's easier than handing out old gaudy chairs to peasants," he chuckled. "But we've got to encourage Drachman businesses and farms too. We've even got alchemists working on improving seed and fertilizer to help deal with the several bad growing seasons we've had."

Now there was a detail Trisha filed away for future information. "So you want this to happen as much as I do."

"Of course I do."

"Then… can you help me?" Trisha asked.

"What do you mean?" Gavril asked, looking slightly anxious, though he hid it well.

"Your uncle asked Lieutenant Colonel Closson, Major Mustang, and I to help investigate the arson," Trisha reminded him. "And so far we're not turning up much in the way of leads. No one wants to talk to Amestrians, even half the Drachman investigators. But if we don't find out who did this, it could happen again, and if someone dies next time, who knows if these negotiations would even be continued." And then Gavril's plans would fall through too.

Gavril's expression was slipping, his concern more obvious as he finished the last of the wine in his glass. "You make a good point."

"I just thought you might know more people than your uncle," Trisha explained, keeping it as nonthreatening as possible. "Or an idea that some of the more traditional minds might have missed. We know not everyone is happy about this. It would be foolish to assume unanimity from any populace on international policy." She didn't beg for information. That would be pushing too much.

Gavril refilled his glass, and topped off hers. "I admit… I have suspicions," he said finally. "Not that I can be sure, but as you say, not everyone likes this. Not even the parties are united, except that pretty much every merchant or company with product to sell wants to widen their market. There are… some… who agree that while we need to expand the economy and increase trade, want it to be entirely on Drachman terms."

"You mean instead of an equal partnership."

"Exactly." Gavril clearly did not like this idea. "They want other countries to take the cut, to put Drachma back on top where they feel she belongs. _Drachma on Drachman terms._"

"Do you know who any of them are?" Trisha asked. "I mean… I don't want you to turn in your friends or anything, but this has to stop."

"You're sweet," Gavril smiled. "And I agree, it does. Unfortunately, there's not a coherent party to blame, or point to a meeting place. As far as I know, it's scattered dissidents out of several groups, working together."

"So everyone's got leaks."

"Pretty much. And I don't know who they are in most of the different parties," Gavril admitted. "I've tried to find out."

"And your own party?"

"I have only suspicions, and no proof what so ever." Gavril looked up at her, his keen gaze boring into her eyes, as if ascertaining for himself how much he really could afford to tell her. Was he wondering if he had already said too much? "Even if I named names, it would be based only on possibilities and maybes and gut instinct. I could very well be wrong, given that I'd like to think everyone in the party is behind its ideals _and_ our methods, which do _not _include sabotage or attempted killings."

He shifted back again, agitation on his face, though it was clearly directed inward. Trisha waited patiently for him to continue, hoping his internal war would end in her favor.

"I… I really don't know for certain, and there are places in the city I just can't go without drawing notice, even now," Gavril finally said. "But I don't like this at all, and if we need to find out the truth, I can suggest a couple of places to go…and a couple of doors to listen at, to see if you can find out anything. Then, maybe whoever is really involved can be flushed out without any good names being ruined falsely."

Perfect. Trisha nodded in understanding and smiled sympathetically. "I like the sound of that. I don't want to ruin anyone's life on accident either. So, where should we start?"

* * *

><p>Roy had, ostensibly, been given the night off, the same way Trisha had. Which meant that to most people, he was off duty. In reality, he was out hunting down a potential lead on the investigation.<p>

He knew where Trisha had headed out to tonight. Tore had specifically asked her to talk to that Gavril Mihalov guy, and Roy had little doubt that she would get plenty to hear, though he doubted much of it would be true or of any use. He did not trust Mihalov any more than he liked him, and the idea of Trisha spending the evening dining alone with the guy made him antsy and irritable.

But Roy had a lead of his own, and one who knew Gavril and was presumably as well connected. He didn't have her number to call, but it hadn't taken long to track down the information that the best place for the middle-class but socially stylish folks in his age bracket was a club downtown with a name that translated to _The Crystal Cavern._

So Roy had dressed in the only fashionably casual outfit he had brought with him, and gone for a stroll.

The _Cavern_ turned out to be a pretty swinging club. Roy could see the neon sign two blocks away, and hear the music before he was within half a block. It was a bit different from the music he was used to back home, but a swinging rock beat was a swinging rock beat, no matter where the music was written.

Roy slipped inside and had a moment's apprehension when he had to show the bouncer at the door his identification, but he grinned at the man and said :A visit to Petrayevka can't be all work right?:  
>The guy nodded, and almost smiled, and waved him in.<p>

The interior was dark, almost black in corners, though the room had a surprisingly modern look to it; smooth lines and minimalist, a startling contrast from the highly elaborate and colorful carvings and paintings that seemed to fill most of the city. The floor was black, as was the ceiling and the walls, though the tables and seats were stark white. At least, he thought they were; the changing lighting on the ceiling shifted through deep, moving colors mostly in blues, greens, and purples. A warm pulse of red and yellow washed the stage in light; the live band pouring out sound underneath them.

Roy's first care was to find a drink at the bar. It gave him time to look around and see if he could find who he was looking for, or at least spot a good place to sit down and wait. He had it on good authority anyone who was anyone would be here…and Talya definitely seemed the type.

He wasn't disappointed either. By the time he had his drink, he had spotted Talya on the other side of the room, sitting at a small table by herself, watching the dancers as she sipped her drink. Tonight's dress was far more modern, black, and stylish.

It was perfect. Roy sidled his way around the room until he was within ear shot. :You're too pretty to be sitting her by yourself.:

She looked up sharply, though her expression eased into a smile as she recognized him. :What does my beauty have to do with it?:

:You should be escorted, so you don't get mobbed by adoring fans,: Roy suggested, chuckling.

:And you aren't mobbing me?:

:If you wish me to go, just say so,: Roy replied with a small bow. :But I suspect it wouldn't do anything to improve either of our evenings.:

:That's true.: Talya eyed him approvingly. :Care to join me?:

Roy stepped around the barrier and took the other chair. :I thought you'd never ask.:

He settled in next to her, not making any overly forward moves. She wasn't the type of girl to put up over moves, and he wasn't really here to hit on her anyway. :So why are you here by yourself?: he asked, dropping any pretense and going for interested conversational tone.

:Because I like coming out by myself,: Talya replied with a casual shrug of her delicate shoulders. :And because I see no reason why I have to replace my boyfriend before I can enjoy myself.:

There was a bit of a sting there. :Nothing wrong with a woman having fun by herself,: Roy offered with a smile.

Talya smiled over her drink. :And what are you doing out on the town by yourself?:

:I had a night off, thought I'd take in the local night life,: Roy shrugged.

:Without your girlfriend?: Talya asked.

Roy bit back the urge to growl that she wasn't his girlfriend. He just didn't know anymore. There wasn't a good time, or place, to talk it out. :She's still on duty,: he replied instead.

:Well that's a shame.: Talya sidled a little closer to him. :You know, I was getting a little bored here anyway. Why don't you come to my place instead, where's its quieter… much easier to talk.:

Well now, wasn't that an interesting turn in the conversation? Roy wished he knew whether it was a real come on, or just a preference for quiet, given her earlier statements. Still, it was the perfect opening. :Don't you think that would look a little suspicious?: he asked cautiously.

:No one here knows who you are except the bouncer…and he's a friend of mine.: Talya chuckled and slid her hand lightly across his forearm. :Coming?:

* * *

><p>"And that's when we broke it off…" Talya said softly, her head leaning against Roy's shoulder as they sat, snuggled on her couch quite some time later. "Political differences of all things. I just couldn't live with his methods."<p>

"I don't blame you," Roy stroked her hair absently with one hand. It only lent credence to his natural dislike for Gavril Mihalov. "Clearly, he didn't deserve you."

Talya tilted her head to look up at him, her expression much more soft and vulnerable than he had ever seen it in public. "Really? All my friends thought I was foolish to end it."

"No… if it wasn't working, it's less painful just to sever things while you can… while you can still be friends." Roy's hand cupped her chin gently. Those warm, dark eyes held so much soul, so much hidden pain. There was still caring there, but Roy had the pained realization that maybe he should be listening to his own advice.

"You're right," she replied softly, leaning in closer. "I should…" her lips found his, and a moment later, Roy responded in kind.


	8. Chapter 8

**July 6****th****, 1973**

Dawn blushed across the streets of Petrayevka as Roy made his way back to the Embassy, a bit bleary eyed, a bit tired, but feeling satisfied. He hadn't meant to spend the night at Talya's, but it had gotten very late by the time they were done, and it had been far better an option than trying to make it back through the streets alone at three in the morning.

He would have stayed longer, but he had to report in to Shock, and find out what, if anything, Trisha had managed to worm out of Mihalov.

The subject of his thoughts was in the kitchen downstairs when he entered. She was dressed, except for being in her slippers, and drinking a cup of coffee at the little breakfast table. Her long hair was down, and mostly dry, but clearly freshly washed.

Roy's hands twitched, and he tightened his fingers. He doubted he'd be fingering that hair this morning. "Hey," he said noncommittally as he moved for the coffee pot. That sounded really good this morning.

"Good night?" Trisha asked.

Something in her tone warned him that she was fishing for information. "Yeah, it was," he replied simply. He saw no reason to give her the details before he reported in to Closson.

"Where'd you go?"

_You mean where did I stay, don't you, Trish?_ "With a friend."

"I didn't know you had friends in Petrayevka."

Roy's hand tightened on his coffee pot, and he growled as some of what he was pouring spilled on his hand as he turned around quickly. "Damn it, Trisha. Why don't you just come out and ask what you want to know?"

"Fine." Her eyes flashed. "Were you with that Talya girl last night?"

"Yes, yes I was." Roy met her glare evenly. "Last I checked, I'm allowed to go out and enjoy myself without reporting in every little thing I do."

"Hey, you're the one who said to ask."

"Well I haven't asked about you and _the nephew_ have I?"

"That was a_ mission_," Trisha pointed out, definitely on the losing side of keeping her temper.

"Going to deny you enjoyed yourself?" Roy retorted. He knew better. She'd jumped almost eagerly at that opportunity. "Didn't spend the evening laughing and gazing into his eyes?"

Trisha's face went bright red, and he knew he'd struck gold. "Now see here! I—"

"Will both of you turn down the racket?" Closson barked from the doorway. "You'll wake the rest of the place. Now shut up and report, and if you're not civil by the time I've got coffee you're both getting electrocuted."

Roy watched Trisha deflate with surprising speed. Almost meekly she nodded and hurried over to the coffee pot. "I'll get it."

Roy sat down, trying not to look sullen as he drained what remained of his coffee and regained his composure. He had to focus.

Trisha sat back down in the seat across from his, where she had been earlier.

The Shock alchemist, yawning and leaning against the counter, took a long sip of his coffee, then looked at them both. "Okay both of you… report. Whisper, you first."

Trisha nodded and went into a brief recitation of her evening that made Roy squirm to here her recount her surprisingly skillful guiding of the conversation and Mihalov's apparent cooperation. It sounded almost too easy.

"In the end, I've got three addresses we should look into and see if we can discover anything useful." She pulled a piece of paper out of her pocket and handed it over to Closson, who took it and nodded thoughtfully.

"Firestorm."

Roy jerked and looked up at him. "Sir?"

"I know you went out following a lead of your own last night."

Roy nodded. "Yeah, and I found her."

Trisha sniffed.

Roy refused to look at her as he carried on, mentioning only how he ran into her at the club, and they went back to her apartment to talk, and then the information she had divulged in regards to Mihalov. "She said she couldn't agree with his methods for getting things done; ethical disagreements, and gave me a couple of places we might want to sniff around as well." He rattled off addresses.

"This Talya's in the same political party with Mihalov right?" Tore was still looking over Trisha's findings.

They looked at each other, and Roy spoke up first. "Yes, but as I said, they don't seem to agree on methods. She was disgusted by what he was willing to do."

"That's preposterous!" Trisha snapped suddenly, glaring at him. "Gavril hasn't done anything. She's lying to you."

"Is she?" Roy cocked one eye-brow. "Really? How do you know Mihalov isn't feeding you a load of bull?"

"Because I know he—"

"How?"

"Well, I…"

"_Enough!"_

Roy turned to look at Closson the same time Trisha's head whipped around and her cheeks went pink. Shock looked like he really was going to start sparking any moment.

"The two of you are impossible." Closson slammed his hands down on the table making the coffee cups jump. "You could both be played for fools. Did you think of that? But these are the only leads we've got, and realistically, someone has got to want this to work or be willing to rat out the other side. So…we investigate both of them, and neither one of you is going to let your personal problems get in the way of this or so help me when we get back to Amestris I will see you both court martialed and drummed out of the military!"

Roy felt the blood draining from his head…. Court martialed? "Ye… yes, sir." Nothing was worth that. "Where do you… want us to start, Sir?"

"With both sets of locations. However, I want the two of you to take each others' lists and check them out."

"What, why?" Trisha stared at Closson as he ripped his list of notes in half and handed one to each of them.

"Because it will look less suspicious for you to show up in places where you might be seen by the person you've been using as a contact. They have to know by now that the two of you aren't exactly on the best of terms. We're going to use that."

Trisha looked furious, but her tone was surprisingly even as she said, "You're using our personal lives to your advantage?"

"That's the idea." Closson straightened up again, then turned suddenly and went to the coffee pot for a refill. "Maybe that way this whole mess will be an asset to the mission instead of a detriment."

Roy cringed inside at the open criticism dripping in Closson's voice. Professionalism had died before they even got on the train. They could fake it all they wanted, but he'd been right last night. Maybe breaking it off was for the best. "Yes, Sir." He stood up, and headed out of the room. "I should go change."

He was half way up the stairs before Trisha's hand caught his on the stairs.

Startled, Roy turned to look at her. "Look, Trisha, we need to talk."

"We do," she agreed with a nod. "I'm sorry, Roy. I mean, at least about this morning. But we need to work together or we're both in trouble, and I think we should just put this behind us until the mission is over."

It was so reasonable Roy's mouth closed on the words that would only turn it into a fight again. "You've got a point." He turned and kept walking. "By the way…" he found himself saying, though he wasn't sure why. "I slept on her couch."

Behind him he could almost hear Trisha's surprise in the pause, and it pissed him off again. What kind of man did she think he was?

But when she pushed past him on the stairs, she still looked irritated. "Could have fooled me. Maybe you better wash your face before you come home next time."

It wasn't until Roy went into the bathroom to wash up that he realized Talya's lipstick was still on his face and neck. Trisha had seen it… Closson had held that entire conference without saying a word.

When he was done washing, Roy's neck was red, and it wasn't just from scrubbing.

* * *

><p>Tore watched them leave, and wished he had a shot of something to add to his coffee. He could probably find something, but it wouldn't be professional. <em>Damn<em> them! He'd had more than enough sexual tension in his own life. Watching the two of them hiss and growl when he could almost _feel _the attraction still pulling them together… it was painful.

He finished his coffee, rinsed the cup, and went back upstairs to finish getting into uniform for the day. _If I thought it would work, I'd lock them in a bedroom together and not let them out until they've either killed or screwed each other. _

At the moment, he couldn't quite bet which way that scenario would turn out.

* * *

><p>:I really can't believe we're doing this,: Alphonse groaned for the fourth time as he walked behind Edward up towards the doors of the alchemy lab, right out in the afternoon sun.<p>

Ed shrugged, grinning with confidence he did not entirely feel. It had been a long time since he'd had to pull off a bluff this big. He hoped he wasn't too out of practice at lying with a straight face.

Fortunately he was fairly certain he had anticipated the majority of the questions they were likely to be asked.

The guards at the front gates did not look impressed, merely bored and slightly incredulous, as Ed and Al marched right up to the doors.

:We'd like to see the alchemist in charge,: Ed announced confidently.

:What for?: the taller of the two guards asked suspiciously.

:We're alchemists,: Ed replied with a casual shrug. :He's going to want us around to work for him.:

:Prove it.:

Ed tried not to grin too big. The guy had asked for it! Ed made a show of pulling out a small stick from his pocket, and drawing a circle on the ground. Then he stood back, held his hands over it, and said, "Watch this!"

Seconds later a dirt replica of the man in front of him –with tongue sticking out- stood before them all.

The first guard looked stunned, while the second appeared to be trying not to laugh as he said. :All right, so you can do alchemy. Come with us.:

Being led inside was not exactly a respectful affair; Ed found himself grabbed firmly on one arm, just a little too tight, by the man whose likeness he had just insulted, and decided it was best to just play along. Busting out the military moves for a few minutes comfort would be a dead giveaway.

Al didn't look too happy about the treatment either, but he didn't fight it. Fairly soon they were left in a room that held nothing but a lamp, two plush chairs, and a small table.

:You think we're actually going to get to see someone?: Al asked.

:That or we're about to be interrogated,: Ed admitted. :But they've got to check out the story. They need alchemists.: Or at least he was betting their lives that they were. It had worked with Urey. He hoped the boy was all right.

They didn't have to wait long. Ed had only just finished inspecting the small room for any kind of wired equipment when the door opened, and a man came in in a lab coat.

:I am Professor Garrin,: he introduced himself at once, holding out a hand. :This is my facility. Well it's the government's really, but you know how it is. Now, my guards have been babbling at me about the two of you being alchemists interested in working here.:

:That's right,: Ed nodded, pointing to himself with his thumb. :Me and my brother here, we're both alchemists.:

:But my reports tell me the two of you, Misters Andrei and Leopold Barkov?: he looked between them as if not sure which was which, :The two of you have been working here on the farm. Why is that?:

:We wanted to check the place out first of course,: Ed replied without so much as a blink. :Make sure the rumors we'd heard were legitimate. Place really is booming, and we'd like in on it.:

:Well we don't just take any alchemists,: Garrin pointed out with a smile. :You've got to be pretty good to work for the government.:

:We fought in the war, and not with those scraps of paper they were giving soldiers and calling them alchemists,: Ed replied with real scorn in his voice.

:I take it that's why you're missing your arm?: Garrin nodded at Ed's hand. Thankfully his leg wasn't visible.

:Yep. Blown off by a mortar near the end,: Ed nodded. :I was lucky to get patched up. Took most of what we had saved up from years of good crops though. Then when the weather went, so did the farm.:

Al nodded. :He was a real pain, always griping till he could walk again,: he added with a smile.

Garrin chuckled. :I can imagine, and I remember the war, though I fought at Briggs for most of it. Well, I'll have to test you to see if you're good enough. I can't promise much until I see what you're capable of.: He gestured for them to follow him. :For that, we'll need to go to the lab.:

This was perfect! Ed schooled his expression to one of interest as he and Al followed Garrin down the hall.

The test didn't prove to be difficult at all, though Ed and Al made sure not to seem _too_ capable. Still, they mixed compounds without mistakes, and demonstrated the ability to combine elements and reshape items, fix them, all the things they would have expected to be able to do as teenagers back when Ed passed the State Alchemy exam. They were good… they just weren't exceptional. That still put them on level or above most of the alchemists in the building, Ed would wager.

But the last test turned out to be a series of questions.

:So,: Garrin asked conversationally. :Do you know anything about chimeras?:

Al nodded. :Yeah, we made a couple during the war.:

"What about homunculus?:

Ed and Al both shook their heads. :I've heard of them,: Ed replied. :But I've never tried to make one.:

Garrin eyed him speculatively. :Would you like to?:

Playing it safe, Ed scoffed slightly. :Yeah right… wait, you serious?: he asked, as if it had just occurred to him that Garrin might actually mean what he had said.

:I wouldn't have asked if I wasn't.:

:I heard those take a lot of power,: Al said skeptically.

:Sure we'd be interested,: Ed insisted, nodding. :But how would you manage it?:

Apparently they had passed the test. Garrin opened the door on the other side of the lab. :Let me show you.:

* * *

><p>Trisha couldn't believe that she and Roy had ended up being sent to this location together. She would have preferred Tore's first idea of just going to each other's list of locations, but ironically, when they'd traced the information this one had shown up on both of those lists. This, for the moment, meant it had the highest chance of containing some of the truth.<p>

That didn't make her happy. Crawling quietly through hallways in the dark unable to talk, with a lack of surety hanging between them was not her ideal way to spend an evening.

Still here they were. Trisha had used her alchemy to unlock three doors already, and to muffle their footsteps. Thankfully this particular corner of the government complex was a mostly unused wing of a very old building, where obscure committees and lobbyists were usually located.

Trisha was quite aware now that Roy's "friend" Talya lobbied for several of those causes, but chose to say nothing. Roy would probably argue, again, that it just meant she knew the people around here and might know who was trouble. It didn't mean she was working with them. And she couldn't disagree with that logic.

"This is it," Roy commented very softly, nodding at the door down the way. The only one with light coming out from underneath.

Trisha nodded and stopped there. She didn't need to get closer. Quietly she pulled out the paper on which she had drawn her transmutation circle for this…not trusting to leaving a mark anywhere on the building, and –covering it to avoid any light showing- carefully transmuted the air around them to guide the sound waves from under the door to their ears.

:…can't believe you,: a soft male voice commented.

:Well next time you tell him why our campaign is failing,: another male voice, a little older and deeper, griped.

:No thanks.:

:Can we finish please?: a female voice –not Talya, unfortunately- asked with a clipped annoyance. :I'm tired of going over the budget, and it's already late.:

The sound of chairs shuffling, and paper, implied that they were getting back down to business. Not that Trisha had heard anything useful so far. She tried to note the voices as best she could so that she might be able to pick them out again the next time she heard them.

Roy, close behind her, seemed just as intent.

:All right,: the woman said. :We know where they will be, and when. The museum tour is still on. So as long as we don't mess up the timing on this, things should go off with a proper bang this time, and there's no way they can ignore the message we're trying to send.:

Bang… explosives? Trisha almost couldn't believe their luck. Of course, it could just be a business term. But the ambassadors did have a museum tour coming up of the great exhibits in Drachman history.

:Are our associates prepared?: the lighter male voice asked.

:I have their report here,: the woman replied. :And yes, everything is ready. They shouldn't see this one coming any more than the first. We have to presume they'll be more cautious, but that shouldn't matter.:  
>:Good, then let's go. My wife will be wondering where I am,: the deeper voice replied. :Can't have her getting suspicious now.:<p>

Chairs scraped, and Trisha dropped the transmutation and changed it back to foot-step muffling as she turned, and hurried back up the hall and around the nearest dark corner, hot on Roy's footsteps. There, they paused, breathing in the near-silence of the air she wrapped around them to muffle the sound, and waited in the dim hall, hoping to see any of the three and put a face to them.

A moment later, two sets of footsteps could be heard going down the hallway in the opposite direction. Only when they were gone did Trisha dare to poke her head out –and only after counting to fifty. There was no one in the hall, which implied someone was still inside.

Roy mouthed 'let's get out of here,' and, frustrated as she was, Trisha knew he was right. Going back was a sure fire way of getting caught spying. It was better to take what they knew straight back to Tore.

* * *

><p>Edward hadn't seen an alchemical laboratory this extensive since the last time he'd bothered to step into one of Central's four alchemical labs. The room he and Al were led into was not as brightly lit. It was rather dim in fact, probably because of the glaring eyes of what were clearly chimeras in the cages on the far wall. It was quite a variety; from small cages hold what looked like fanged flying squirrels with long claws, to a large cage that was more like a cell, holding three human chimeras, all in mangled forms that were mostly human, but clearly part animal. If Ed had to guess, he would peg them for a wolf-chimera, a white-bear-chimera, and a badger or wolverine-chimera. All of them were male, and all of them glared out of the cage sullenly. When Ed made eye contact with the wolf…he growled.<p>

:As you can tell, this is our chimera research facility,: Garrin explained almost conversationally. The ten alchemists at the various lab tables barely looked up from their work. What Ed found most interesting about them wasn't their willingness to work here, or their apparent lack of interest in newcomers, but the fact that there was far more alchemical energy in the air than the room accounted for. At the moment, not a single alchemist in the room was transmuting anything.

:It's impressive,: Al commented. :What do you use them for?:

:To help restore balance to our ecosystem,: Garrin replied. :Oh I know it sounds odd, but we have a large problem with herbivorous species overgrowing their habitats up here. As you may have noticed down south as well.:

:We have,: Ed agreed with a short nod to forestall any further questions about where they were from exactly. :But what about the intelligent ones? Human chimeras aren't likely to take orders to go be nothing but base carnivores are they?:

:No, of course not,: Garrin agreed. :Though some have enjoyed sport-hunting. The point of human chimeras, outside from being excellent biological research into just what's possible, and transmutations that may strengthen humans, or save those who are particularly ill from disease by changing them enough to render the disease useless.:

Now wasn't that a strange theory. Ed had to admit, he hadn't given a medical application to chimeras much thought, but it was just as taboo as trying to bring someone back to life. So the applications were, he felt, rather irrelevant… and it was still disturbing. :Are they still human?: he asked, pretending he didn't already know the answer.

:Of course,: Garrin lied with surprising ease. :They're just… better.:

Ed scanned the darkness further, and spotted a thankfully familiar back, as he spotted Urey cleaning out what appeared to be an empty chimera cage. He wondered what animal had recently occupied that space, and where it was now. He looked tense but otherwise unharmed as he did typical new lackey grunt work. :Nice work,: he lied, then took a calculated risk. :But this isn't what you were going to show us.:

:Impatient, isn't he?: Garrin looked at Al.

Al nodded and shrugged. :Yep.:

:Well chimeras are small change compared to what we were talking about earlier,: Ed pointed out, looking more disgruntled than he actually felt.

:Quite right,: Garrin nodded. :Very well, since you're clearly a man who likes to get to the point, the point is through here.: With that, he led them down the wall to the door at the far end of the room. When he opened it, a red glow came spilling out, and it was all Ed could do to look curious instead of cringe, as he and Al walked straight into that brilliant red light.

The second room was almost the same size as the chimera research lab. The red glow came from a variety of sources, he now saw. The first, a huge tank of red water along one well, well illuminated; and the rest a selection of vials of red water or stones in various states and stages. There were, he noticed, only a very small handful of finished stones, sitting on a plate on a table, being carefully examined by a thick-set middle-aged alchemist with a fringe of hair on an otherwise bald head.

All four of the alchemists in this room looked up suspiciously, almost jealously, from their research.

Garrin ignored their glances as he picked up one of the vials of red water and handed it straight to Ed. :What do you make of this?: he asked, his eyes holding a dangerous glint behind their almost friendly exterior.

Ed had the feeling that he was being tested, yet again. Garrin still didn't entirely trust them, but now that they knew his secrets, only an idiot would know they were going to have to stay and work for him, or risk an unpleasant end to keep the man's secrets.

Fortunately, Ed and Al weren't playing fools.

Al looked at it closely even as Ed held it up, trying to ignore the crawling feeling in his skin at the site of the familiar elixir. Another lifetime ago, he would have given almost anything for the amount of red water and finished stones in this room. Even imperfect, they would have been amazingly powerful. Even imperfect, he might have been able to reverse the damage they had done. At least, he had thought so at the time.

Now, Ed knew better. There was no way Garrin had philanthropy or the good of the people in mind if he was really working this hard to create philosopher's stones. Certainly they weren't being used on any of the agricultural experiments.

:I've never seen anything like it,: Ed let his front cover admit. :But this isn't a homunculus,: he said, pretending he didn't understand the connection.

:Does it make them?: Al asked, looking impressively convincing that he had no idea and was slightly perplexed, but thoughtful.

Garrin looked at them hard for another few seconds, then something in him relaxed. :Yes, yes it does,: he replied. :In order to make a homunculus, you need a very strong alchemical amplifier with a lot of power. This does that.:

Which meant, if the layout of the laboratory was what Ed suspected, behind the next door there were probably more stones, possibly larger ones, and the transmutation area itself where they brought the workers to be sacrificed. And then, there or just beyond, where ever Garrin was working to create –or may have already created- a homunculus. And not just the type detailed in the older historical texts, but a homunculus on the level of the ones Ed and Al had known.

:How does it do that?: Ed made himself ask.

:That's why you'll start here,: Garrin gestured to the research room. :Once you understand its fundamental properties and can make some yourself, than you will understand how it is involved in the process of making homunculi.:

Ed nodded casually to the door beyond them. :What's back there?:

Garrin smiled, though there was little friendly about it this time, and shook his head. :Where you only go when you're ready to move on from here. Prove to me you're capable, and then you will both be able to see what we can truly master here.:

Of course. They may have been trusted enough to come in, but that only meant that Garrin wanted to use them. They would be even more guarded in here than they had been outside, because now they were in on the secrets, and that meant letting them go was too dangerous.

So Ed smiled and shrugged as if it had just been an innocent question. :So let's get started then. What are we supposed to do?: And how far, he wondered, would they have to cooperate before they could bust the place up? Ed had the evidence he needed for work with chimeras, and attempts at philosopher's stones. But neither of which were taboo in and of themselves, only proven dangerous.

Ed and Al followed Garrin to a table as he gestured them forward. :You will start here,: he tapped an open book. :Learn the methods you will need, and then I will teach you how to choose the best … ingredients.:


	9. Chapter 9

**July 7****th****, 1973**

Will Elric set down his pen, and the essay in his hands, and rubbed his eyes, stifling a yawn as he fought off a grading-induced headache. What had possessed him to teach this summer short-course anyway? Oh, right, the paycheck.

Downstairs he could smell dinner cooking; steamed vegetables and fish with rice from the scent of it, something light and from the Eastern Islands of Xing. He might have felt guiltier about leaving Ren to make dinner, but he knew that all three kids were helping, even little Kami, who was old enough to set the table and mix things.

Besides, he had been grading papers all afternoon despite having all three kids home for the summer, while Ren was in the clinic. It was fair.

His stomach growled audibly, and Will gave up. He stretched and stood.

From downstairs came a piercing shriek!

Startled, Will bolted to the door and ripped it open. "What's going on down there?" he shouted.

A moment's silence was immediately broken by his oldest daughter shouting back up at him and feet pounding on the stairs. "It's here, Daddy! It's here!" And Minxia bolted into view, clutching a very thick envelope.  
>Will willed his heart to stop racing before it gave him a heart attack, and grinned at his almost-fourteen year old daughter bounced off the last stair, eyes bright. He was sure it was good news. Schools didn't send rejection letters two inches thick.<p>

"So, open it," he laughed. "But let's go back downstairs so your mother can see."

He followed Minxia downstairs, his heart in his throat a little, with pride and apprehension both, as he watched Minxia ceremoniously place the packet on the coffee table in the living room, while Michio and Kamika stared curiously. Ren was smiling, though Will thought she looked misty eyed.

Well it wasn't every day your little girl got into a school hundreds of miles away. Minxia had begged to be allowed to apply to the Chalas School which, aside from being one of the top private high schools in Creta, was in Pylos and had a special program in conjunction with the university for students interested in history, anthropology, and archaeology.

Sending his daughter off to another country hadn't really been in Will's immediate plans, even if Minxia had been a fantastic enough student to skip a grade and enter high school a year early. But how could he say no?

He watched her open the packet, and pull out a thick packet of blue, embossed in gold, and the cover letter.

The air was broken with more squeals of joy as Minxia read the letter but stopped less than a sentence in. "I'm accepted!" she bounced to her feet and threw herself at Ren in a huge bear hug, then she turned and buried herself in Will's midsection. "Oh I got in!"

Will hugged her as he tried to breath, and smiled. "Of course you did, sweetie. I'm so proud of you."

"It's fantastic," Ren agreed, nodding and beaming. "Though that means we only have a few weeks to get you packed! And fill out a lot of paperwork."

Will tried not to role his eyes. Lots of paperwork… and checks to write. "We can do that later," he replied, giving her another squeeze before Minxia pulled away and practically dove back into the papers. "Tonight, we celebrate!"

Michio was grinning too. "Hey, sis, does this mean I get your room?"

"No," Minxia stared at him as if daring him to try and take it. "I'll still be home for holidays. Besides, when I do move out, Mich, Kami gets my room."

"But I'm older than her!"

"But she's a girl."

Kamika just stared between them, then shrugged and followed Ren into the kitchen.

Will shook his head in amusement. He already had the feeling the first thing he was going to miss about his little Minx, was the noise.

* * *

><p>The phone rung for a fourth time before Tore heard a click on the other end of the line and his heart ached at the familiar female voice that said "Closson and Breda residence, Charisa speaking."<p>

"Excuse me, ma'am," Tore grinned as he spoke into the phone. "I'm looking for a really hot mama with fabulous red hair?"

A moment's pause, and a chuckle. "Will you settle for a bedraggled mama in a pony-tail and sweats?"

"As long as she's taking good care of my boys and promises me lots of alone time when I get home," Tore assured her. If only he could reach through the telephone and pull her close… take her upstairs.

"Oh don't worry about those two," Charisa replied. "Fortunately Dare's taken it upon himself to keep Brandon out of trouble. He's started trying to crawl into everything the last few days."

Tore felt a pang. "I hope you're taking lots of pictures."

"Oh tons. And when I'm not, Dad is," Charisa said, sounding amused. "I don't think you'll miss more than a few seconds. Though it's too bad we weren't fast enough yesterday. Brandon tried to eat Rap's tail. Lazy cat let him try for almost five minutes before he could be bothered to move."

"What were you expecting? He was tired." Tore grinned.

"He's old and fat, Tore," Charisa retorted.

"I am not!" He heard Breda bellow from the other room.

"Not you, Dad, the cat!" Charisa called back before returning her attention to Tore. "How's the trip going?" she asked.

"About as straightforward as it ever is," Tore replied, wishing he could be more specific. But even with a guaranteed secure line out of the building, there were just things one didn't talk about on the phone. He didn't want to worry her either. "Though pretty well all things considered."

"Good. How are Roy and Trisha doing? This is a big step for them too."

Didn't he know it? "Driving me crazy, honestly," Tore said, venting the frustration he couldn't admit anywhere else except to the faces of the two alchemists in question. "They had to pick now, of all times, to start having personal drama."

"What kind of drama?" Charisa asked, concerned.

"Ugly," Tore replied simply. It was too complicated to get into. He wasn't even sure if they had technically broken up or not, and he hadn't asked. At least their last assignment had gone off without any complications. Now if the defensive and preventative strategy _worked_, he'd be a happy man. "_Really_ ugly."

"Well I hope that gets worked out soon," Charisa replied. "How long do you have?" she asked then. "Do you want to talk to the boys?"

"How much does a seven month old have to say?" Tore asked, joking a little. He didn't want to stop talking to Charisa either, but he did want to talk to Dare, and talk at Brandon.

"Lately, a lot. I just wish I understood most of it. Just a second."

He heard Charisa set down the phone, and a minute later it was picked up, and he heard happy baby noises, followed by Dare's voice. "Hi, Dad! Are you really in Drachma? Is it snowing?"

For a few moments, the stress tightening his shoulders seemed to melt completely away. "Hey there, kiddo. Yes I am, and no, it hasn't actually snowed."

* * *

><p>"….and so I die."<p>

There was a moment of silence as Sara watched her nephew lying prone on the floor, having just gasped, given dramatic dialogue, and seemingly expired. All without appearing to be a complete ham. Now _that_ was the impressive part. "Bravo," she laughed, and clapped as Franz, James, and Ted joined in.

Ted was smirking. "Did you really do it like that?"

"Sure I did," Ian grinned as he came back to life, standing and taking a bow. "I don't know if I got the part, but if I did, it should be a fun movie."

"When will you hear back about the audition?" Franz asked as he stood up and stepped around the coffee table, heading for the kitchen with the glasses from their drinks as they had enjoyed 'after dinner Ian theatre.' He loved to try out his audition pieces on the family, and regale them with his adventures in full dramatic fashion.

"Next week sometime, I hope," Ian replied.

"Sounds like it could be quite a birthday present then," Sara smiled. "Speaking of birthdays, what would you like to do for yours? It's not every day you turn sixteen."

Ian paused and then dropped down cross-legged on the floor on the other side of the coffee table and took his glass, still full of ice water, and drank. "Really? If it's not too much trouble… I'd like to invite a few friends over. Just, you know, a couple of kids from the cast, and a few from school."

"No big all-night bashes huh?" Sara asked, relived, but slightly surprised. Responsible teenager or no, Ian enjoyed a good time as much as anyone.

"I'm not sure most of the kids from my school could handle hanging out with my friends from the cast," Ian pointed out. Only one other person on the cast, one of the supporting females, went to a public school, and she went to West Central on the other side of town. Most of the others attended private school or had tutors to accommodate their schedules.

"Point taken," Sara nodded.

"You're not going to forget us, right?" Ted asked his older brother.

"Of course not," Ian grinned, then reached out and ruffled Ted's hair with his hand.

"Hey, stop that!" Ted growled, shoving at Ian's hand, though he missed when Ian pulled back too fast.

"Sure thing, shrimp."

"_I am not a shrimp_!"

**July 8****th****, 1973**

The Grand National Museum of Drachman History was as large, grandiose, and –frankly- garish as its name sounded, Trisha thought as she followed behind the Ambassadors of Amestris and Drachma as part of that day's security detail. She tried to appear casually alert, but in reality her senses were so keen that even the slightest noise registered.

So far the day had been tense, at least for security, who were trying to appear relaxed and no more alert than normal. Trisha would have enjoyed the museums more if she could have actually paid attention to the exhibits instead of the people in the building, keeping an eye out for situations that might be trouble in the making.

She also would have preferred being one of the security guards who wasn't there; stuck by the Ambassadors' sides, instead of in plain-clothes, moving about the museum trying to locate the people who were supposedly setting up another attack. Her alchemical skills were ideal for quiet work.

The conversation in front of her was almost as dull as the tour, so Trisha ignored it, keeping an eye out for something, anything that might give them a clue as to when they might be attacked, or who there was likely involved.

She would have been a fool to assume that there weren't less than innocent bystanders keeping an eye on them as they moved through the museum. They weren't necessarily the ones planning to set off explosives, or whatever else might be involved, but that didn't mean they were completely uninvolved.

What about the middle-aged bald guy with his teenaged daughter, looking at an imposing painting of the ancient Drachman emperor, Thralakov the Third? Or the elderly couple looking at a painting of birds in a garden? Or the museum janitor meticulously scrubbing the base of the statue of Herklataos the Horrific?

They stopped in front of the Thralakov painting, and the tour guide droned on in Drachman about Thralakov's great accomplishments in uniting the northernmost tribes of the ice-shelf into Drachma generations before.

Trisha met Roy's eyes across the room. He gave a slight shake of his head. Nothing there. She almost didn't have to look at Tore to know that he hadn't seen anything yet either. Trisha was beginning to wonder if this was really going to happen. Though something in her gut told her not to give it up for lost yet. She doubted their show of force would stop them, when it hadn't the first time. Though this was a much more public venue, and therefore harder to set up and get away with any kind of terrorist action.

The janitor stood up, wiped his hands, and headed down the hall away from them. Trisha felt herself drawn to watch him, though she wasn't sure why. So she watched him, and as he turned the corner, she saw him tuck something in his pocket. Something that looked like… wire, sticking out of the rag he'd been using to scrub.

Every so quietly, she waited for Tore's next glance her way, then flashed a small hand signal after a meaningful glance that told him to watch. _Suspicious target acquired._ Then she nodded slightly backwards, and then to the statue.

Tore gave her a slight nod and his hand twitched in a single sign that looked almost like he'd just stopped to stretch his fingers. _Follow up._

Trisha took a few steps away, pretending to be interested in the statue itself. Though what she noticed was a pair of college age love-birds paying slightly less attention to themselves than they appeared. Sure she was close, she moved around the side of the statue, continuing to admire the top. Or at least, her head was tilted up. She glanced at the base, looking for signs of tampering.

There… behind the statue along the wall; one of the marble squares looked like the edging around it was not as smooth as the rest. Trisha didn't reach down to mess with it, she didn't have to. Instead, she put her hand in her pocket, and touched the transmutation circle on the slip of paper in there. Carefully, slowly, to keep extraneous energy from showing, she slid fine filaments of air through the cracks, and found an empty space behind the marble façade that she could feel even though she couldn't really see it. She stepped in closer to admire a detail on the statue, and slid the façade away ever so slightly. There, the bomb in question, ticking down actively.

Trisha looked at it for a moment, then felt relieved. She had seen this kind of configuration before in training manuals, and on the training grounds, though not active. She had never diffused one herself, but she knew the theory of how it was done. Franz had gone on and on and on at the dinner table one evening about the one time he had tried to defuse a bomb, in the dark, on a mission patrol back before he'd even gone officer. The trick, she remembered him saying, when it came to Drachman bombs, was that they always used three wires, and you only wanted to cut two; the white and the green, but never the blue. They weren't nice enough to mark anything clearly in standard accepted colors. No red wires here.

Trisha didn't have a knife on her, but she didn't need one. With a quick slice of air, she cut neatly through the covers of the green and white wires, cutting the wire without cutting the colored insulation off. If anyone looked, the bomb would still appear whole; just stopped.

Without reaching down, Trisha slid the marble back in place, and moved casually back around to her previous position.

Tore caught her eye. _All clear?_

Trisha nodded. _Bomb diffused. Perpetrator?_

_ Being tailed by undercover._

Trisha returned to scanning the area as if she hadn't found anything suspicious. It was all they could do for now. She would keep alert. There was no reason there might not be a second set-up somewhere in the museum, though the likelihood was that whoever had planned this would spend too long wondering why their attack hadn't worked and trying to figure out what was wrong with the bomb, that they wouldn't have time to make another attempt today.

_I wonder if Daddy knew how useful his bomb defusing training story was going to be?_

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note: 58/2012 Hi everyone. I wanted to let you know that, for the foreseeable future, I'm going to have to make another change in my posting schedule. Last week we found out that my husband has lymphoma. Treatments are, fortunately, starting very soon, and we have no reason at present to expect that we can't beat this, but it's wreaking havoc with my ability to focus and we're looking at a minimum of months of treatment. I'm going to keep writing (because when I can focus, this is my favorite form of stress relief!). The story has plenty of notes to go off of, but chapters may be shorter than usual, and there may be weeks coming where I don't get something written. I will still continue to put up whatever I get written each week. So if I have something for you, you can expect it on Monday or Tuesday of the week as usual, and I will try never to miss more than one at a time if it comes to that. Thanks for understanding! And thanks so much for reading along with me all this time. Hopefully it will continue for quite a while longer.  
><em>


	10. Chapter 10

**July 9****th****, 1973**

:And that's when I told him, that's not a turnip, that's my wife!:

The group of people around the mess table alternately groaned or laugh at the punch line of Mikail's joke.

Cal opted to groan, though he chuckled anyway and finished the watered-down beer in his tin cup. Three days since Ed and Al had disappeared into the bowels of the alchemical laboratory that towered over them, and Cal hadn't heard a word. So here he'd sat, getting in friendly with the rest of the workers, especially the ones who had been here longer, and trying to find out any further information he could get.

There hadn't been a lot more he could find out, he discovered, from the average farmer. None of the men and women in the barracks he had access to had been anywhere near the barracks on the north side. All they could tell him was that every so often volunteers were asked for, but mostly newcomers that were moved up there never mingled with them. In fact, they rarely ever saw them.

It wasn't all that mysterious, they claimed. Word had it those were the workers who got to work on the most experimental projects, but no one knew exactly what the differences were between soils and seeds on one side of the valley versus the other. But that was all there was to it.

Cal was sure they didn't entirely trust him, or their employers, any more than he could really trust them. The way they said it, they seemed to think there might be something going on to; the ones with half a brain between them anyway. A lot of the people he spent time with didn't seem to be smart enough, or worldly enough, to think anything strange as long as they got their work done, and their food at the end of the day, and their pay at the end of the month. They _were_ being paid after all.

So it looked like he was going to have to do his own investigating, and tonight, the night before their one rest day they got out of the week, seemed like as good a time as any. So Cal set his cup down, waited for the conversations to pick up again, and excused himself as unobtrusively as possible, though he did grab an extra bread roll out of the basket on the table as he left.

:Bored already?: one of the older men asked him as he reached the door.

Cal paused, and grinned at the gray-haired grandfather. :There's this available blonde who lives in Barracks B…:

:Say no more,: the man laughed and waved him on.

Cal slipped out the door without further interruption, and now he had an alibi. If they thought he was hunting down company, no one would worry that he might be elsewhere, and that's what they'd tell the guards if they wanted to know where he was.

The night was chilly and cloudy, perfect for a little snooping around without being seen. Everything was dark already, and in shadows besides. Moving at a casual pace, Cal meandered his way down the wide road that ran from the mess down past the barracks, and also up between more barracks buildings and the laboratory. Much as he didn't like it, Cal would have to find a way around or over the brick wall that marked the two halves of the valley at this point. Going around them would take too long, and he knew that at night the fields were patrolled by more guards, and guard dogs. He wouldn't be surprised if half the beasts out there at night were actually chimeras. He'd heard the howls. While they claimed it was for the safety of the workers, Cal bet that the chimeras were either trained, or gone wild, but they weren't anybody's friends.

There was almost no one on the road this late, which didn't make it easier for Cal to sneak without sneaking. Any guards would have their eyes on the figure in the dark, though they shouldn't be able to tell who it was until he got close.

Improvising, that was what this was all about. So Cal screwed up his courage and tried to prepare a cover story. The easiest, would be that he'd gotten lost, was new, and was trying to find the right barracks in the dark.

He could even play it up that he was a bit drunk. Not that he ever really could get drunk on the stuff that passed for beer here. The vodka wasn't any better though, and he didn't smell of vodka or he might have tried to pull that one off.

The rustling of brush made him stop and looked off to his right, at the bushes and trees that went back for nearly twenty yards before they hit the wall. It hadn't sounded like an animal. Of course, the only animals ever seen on the property were farming animals, and dogs. The dogs were almost always leashed, or on the heels of the guards.

Which made this worth investigating… carefully.

In the clouds above, a sudden thunder crack, and a bolt of lightning split the sky, announcing an incoming summer mountain storm. In the blue-white light, Cal thought he saw the reflecting of two pairs of eyes… very human looking eyes.

So someone was hiding in the bush and didn't want to be seen. Cal didn't get the feeling he was going to be attacked. His instincts and training weren't setting off warnings.

Looking around to be sure no one was watching, Cal stepped off the path and vanished into the brush.

Whoever was hiding was pretty good, but he could hear breathing in the silence that followed the thunder. From the slight gasp… he thought it sounded female too. :I won't hurt you,: he said softly into the darkness. :Unless you're a snake. I'm not fond of those.:

The joke elicited another rustle. Cal stayed where he was, and a few seconds later, a vague, female form appeared in the brush to his left, staying low.

Another thunder crash, more lightning, and Cal saw better the woman in front of him. She was bedraggled, and dirty, and dark haired, but with a pretty, young face that couldn't be more than mid-twenties.

Her eyes widened when she saw him, and her stance seemed to relax a little as he stood there, not moving toward her in the quickly returning darkness.

:I'm Cal,: he introduced himself simply.

:Myra,: she replied. :You're a farmer?:

:From the south.:

Distrust filled her eyes. :You are not. I am from Vashlja, and you sound nothing like us.:

Of course she would be the southern-most Drachman he ran into on this trip. :Further South,: he replied, wondering if she would pick up on the hint.

:Oh.: She went quiet for a moment. :You aren't the only one. But how are you out here? The foreigners are all in there,: she gestured back past the wall.

:They don't know southerners very well,: Cal grinned.

Slowly, she came closer, until they were both crouched within a couple of feet of each other, hidden by the brush from the rest of the world outside. Now that he was in here, Cal realized it was a tunnel back into the bramble-thicket the Drachmans had allowed to remain. Probably thinking it was too thick to be worth cutting down, and a good deterrent. :You won't turn me in,: she asked, sounding almost frantic.

:Of course not,: Cal replied, surprised. :Why would I?:

Myra seemed to realize she might have said too much. She shifted uneasily. :I… I escaped, from behind the wall.:

They were the best words Cal had heard in days. He tried not to seem too excited as he replied. :I won't tell. But, can you tell me what it's like there? I have… family in there,: he lied, but let it sit. If she thought he was here looking for relatives, his strangeness was more understandable.

:It's terrible,: she replied immediately, then stopped herself, and seemed to gather a sense of calm. :I mean, it's not that different from out here, not at first. I came here with my father and my brothers, and we were out here, in the regular part of the compound,: she gestured back the direction he had come. :But when they called for volunteers for the special projects, we volunteered, and they accepted. My father was a very successful orchard farmer back home, before the drought killed the trees. They were impressed with our knowledge.:

Lightning split the sky again, and a moment later, rain began to thunder down on the leaves above them. That was good, Cal thought. No one would be looking for anybody in the rain. :What happened?: he asked, gently. He got the feeling he already knew, but he needed to confirm it.

:Well, there are a lot of foreigners, like I said,: Myra continued. :And I learned soon that most of them weren't there by choice. They were slaves, bought out of other countries. A lot of Aerugeans, mostly. And that every so often, a lot of the workers, the ones that weren't the best, would be taken inside of there,: she pointed up at the black structure above them, :and they… they'd never come out again. We didn't know where they went, though we were told they had been fired and sent back out the front. Still, it seemed odd that they never returned for their things, which were all confiscated.:

:What do you think happened to them?: Cal asked.

It was too soon. A moment later Myra burst into tears, and curled in on herself.

It was instinct that drew Cal over to her, that let his arms surround the girl as her tearful sobs were absorbed and covered by the night weather. Poor kid; she'd clearly been through quite an ordeal. :It's all right,: he whispered. :I'm sorry.:

After several minutes, her tears quieted, and she wiped her eyes with her hand. :No… I, I don't know what happened. But last week, they came and took my brothers, and my father, and lots of others. They wanted me too, but I was still behind the building. I hid, and I heard my father tell them I was in the outhouse. So I ran the other way as soon as they had gone to find me. But they'd taken my father… and it's been over a week, and they said he's gone.: For a moment, Cal thought she might cry again, but she didn't. :I snuck over the wall, and I've been hiding in this bush.:

:For a week?: Cal stared at her, wondering at her bravery more than anything else. :Have you eaten anything?:

She looked up at him and shook her head.

Cal's hand went to his pocket, and he pulled out the slightly mashed, but still warm, bread roll. :Eat this,: he pressed it into her hand. :If I'd known I was going to find a starving pretty girl in the bushes, I'd have grabbed butter.:

The teasing brought a small smile, and her hand tightened on the bread. :Thank you.: Then she tore into the bread with no more manners than Charlie had at home, and for a moment, Cal missed his family so keenly it hurt. He wished he had brought more, and resolved himself to snatching something else from breakfast in the morning, and finding a way to smuggle it into this bush, at least until he could think of a way to get her out of here.

:I'll try and bring you breakfast in the morning,: he offered aloud. :What's your plan from here. To leave?:

:If I could get out,: she replied, licking the crumbs from her fingers. :But they don't let people leave, especially not from the other side of the wall. The last person who tried, was shot dead in the cabbages. The one before that, they let the wilds get him.:

:The wilds?:

:The strange beasts that roam these woods at night. They come into the fields sometimes.:

Chimeras. Cal nodded. :I've heard them,: he commented vaguely. :I can't promise much, but I'll try and find a way to get you out, if it's possible,: he found himself saying, even as he balked at the reality of the difficulty of that task. The best he could do was try and take her with them, and that required success of the mission first. He couldn't just leave her to wander Drachma without a vehicle, even in the summer nights. The fact she was still alive now was impressive; not frozen, not caught. He looked around, and noticed she didn't have anything to hold water either. :Have you drunk?:

She was still staring at him from the offer, and blinked. :I… just rainwater. I don't have a cup. But can you really get me out?: she asked, slightly breathless.

:I can try.: Judging it safe to try, Cal set his finger into the clay, and drew a transmutation circle in the darkness. There was plenty of lightning to hide the effect, and the constant background of alchemical energy from inside would cover the rest. He set his fingers to the circle, and it glowed very subtly as he transmuted a chunk of clay into a deep bowl, and then used alchemy to pull all of the moisture from the clay, and then flash harden it.

Now Myra was staring even wider. :You… you're one of… of them…:

:No,: he pressed the bowl into her hands. :I mean, I know this much, but I'm not one of *them.*: He made it clear he meant the ones inside. :I only help people, like this.:

He had gotten more information than he had expected tonight, but Cal knew he really ought to get back to his barracks, or he'd be missed, and he wouldn't be able to help anyone. The place hadn't exploded yet, so he doubted Ed, Al, and Urey were in any serious trouble. He stood up.

:You're going?: she asked, a hint of regret and fear in her voice.

:I'll be back,: he assured her as he moved towards the edge. :I can't be missed, and if I don't, how will you get breakfast?:

The lack of argument at that point almost made him smile.

* * *

><p>The one thing Urey had to give Garrin; he fed his alchemists well. Far better, in fact, than the workers outside doing much more to earn their dinners. Of course, Urey thought with a hint of disgust, it wasn't the workers Garrin was worried about pleasing and retaining.<p>

Urey sat at his now appointed spot in the red water room –as he thought of it- looking at the dish of red liquid under the microscope in front of him while he chewed on a cabbage roll. He hadn't had to feign interest in the subject matter. While he and Grandpa had talked about red water, philosopher's stones, chimeras, and even homunculi and the door of truth, he had only been allowed selected glimpses of the research involved, and that had been more than enough for his curiosity as far as things went. He had never really wanted to try any of them, and hadn't been a good enough alchemist at the time to even consider it.

Now, however, it was fascinating to fill in the little gaps and details he had been missing on this subject. Though he found that in some cases, he actually knew more than the researchers here did. He just wished that Garrin would let him near more of the research on homunculi, but so far all of his chores and assignments had revolved around the red water and the chimeras. Mostly he just did grunt work with the chimeras.

There was a fascination with the ability to generate part of the elements that went into creating a philosopher's stone, however imperfect they might be. The alchemical enhancers might not be real stones, but they were still powerful. What turned his gut was the idea that behind the other doors, was a transmutation circle set up to use the water to help make those stones, out of the blood of human lives.

That thought drove him to study harder, faster, and to keep his eyes and ears open gathering information. The faster they had a full report, and rendered the facility incapable of the atrocities and alchemical taboos being committed, the better off the people would be. At least, the ones that were slated for death. Urey didn't want to think about all the hard working men and women outside who were there as legitimate labor, being paid much needed wages. Maybe, he hoped, the Drachman government would put alchemists in here who were focused only on the legitimate research.

:How does it look?: Garrin asked, startling Urey by seemed to appear out of nowhere behind him. The man had infuriatingly soft steps when he wanted to.

:I think it will work,: Urey replied, pretending he was slightly less sure than he really was. In fact, he was absolutely certain the mixture was perfect. There were gallons of it in the room to look at. Huge vats of it could be used to simplify the making of a stone using the method they had. Obviously, Urey thought, Garrin had no knowledge of the Cretan transmutation circle that could do this from straight blood. Grandpa Ed had shown Urey sketches of that one, from one of his adventures back when he was a teenager. It had looked nothing like the circles Urey was used to, but he could see almost at once now, looking at what Garrin was using, why Garrin's circle was imperfect, and why it required copious amounts of red water.

:Then you may have the opportunity to test it yourself soon,: Garrin smiled, clearly expecting Urey to be pleased.

He managed to smile convincingly. :Really? Thank you, Professor.:

:Of course of course.: Garrin nodded, and moved to inspect Urey's work for himself. Urey got out of the way as Garrin looked into his microscope. :Tell me, my boy. Have you ever wanted to bring someone back from the dead?:

He said it so conversationally, Urey was caught by surprise. :Y-yes sir,: he lied. :My little sister.:

Garrin stood up and clapped Urey on the shoulder. :Keep this up, and I might be able to help you bring her back.:

Urey hoped the look on his face was hopeful doubt, instead of revulsion. :Do you think so, sir? I thought that was impossible.:

:Only for a mediocre alchemist, my boy.:

* * *

><p><em>The Crystal Cavern<em> was hopping tonight, not that it impressed Trisha much. After the success of their last investigative excursion, Tore had not only suggested the Trisha and Roy check out one of the places on Gavril's list together, but he had joined them as well. They were there on the pretext of a much needed evening off.

Under other circumstances, Trisha might have enjoyed being out with Roy and Tore; circumstances where they weren't on a mission, in Drachma, and barely on speaking terms. It had been a slow night as they made casual friendly talk while actually keeping an eye on the place, and looking for signs of anyone who might be involved in political intrigue.

Gavril suspected back room dealings here amongst some of the younger members of various political parties. After all, this was the one place where class and status lines seemed to blur enough for that to take place.

Power moved in the _Cavern_ more than any of the old-timers up in the government district seemed to realize.

The fact that this was where Roy had picked up Talya the other night did not improve Trisha's lack of appreciation for the place, but it was a very likely spot to catch on to more intrigue, so she couldn't dismiss it.

:I don't think we're going to find anything tonight,: Tore finally said, four hours after their arrival.

Trisha almost set down her drink and hopped up in relief, but she didn't. Instead, she nodded casually. Despite the noise someone could still be listening in. Despite the civilian Drachman clubbing outfits they had procured for this, they might still have been recognized. :Time to call it a night?:

:So early?: Roy asked with a grin, and nodded towards a group of girls in tight skirts that had just walked in. :The night's just heating up.:

Playing a part or not, Trisha wanted to hit him. She didn't bother to hide the withering glance at the girls, or a short glare at Roy. He could at least pretend he cared enough about her feelings not to leer in front of her.

:Definitely time to go, playboy,: she snipped.

:Both of you,: Tore sighed and rolled his eyes. :Let's go.: He finished his drink, set it on the table, and stood.

Trisha left hers, only half finished, on the table, next to Tore and Roy's empty glasses. She didn't know how either of them could drink this stuff, let alone more than one, but neither seemed particularly effected. She knew Grandpa Ed had a trick for neutralizing alcohol in drinks, though she hadn't perfected that one, but she hadn't seen either of them use it either. Half a drink was plenty for her.

They moved casually towards the exit and out into the chilly Drachman summer night. Trisha wished her outfit had included a jacket, it cut through the sheer over-shirt that draped over the tank-top underneath like it wasn't even there, and the skirt –though longer than the ones on the girls Roy had been staring at- was still not even to the knees. She shivered slightly, and envied the guys their coats. What she wouldn't have given for a functional jacket tonight.

Trisha glanced at Roy, who seemed to be avoiding her, or maybe he was just keeping his eye on the dark streets. If she was fair, she had to admit he probably wasn't thinking about her at all. That thought hurt even more deeply than she expected. They needed to talk… really, and just decide where things stood. When they got back, she would try and corner him while the others were asleep, or busy.

* * *

><p>Roy scanned the shadows with his eyes as they walked back towards the embassy, taking a slightly circuitous route to make sure their cover wasn't blown by heading straight back and being obvious about it.<p>

He hoped he wasn't being too obvious about the fact his eyes kept coming back to Trisha. He'd never seen her in anything that clingy, revealing… he had always thought she was hot, but that was downright sexy in ways he hadn't even known were possible. Not that he could tell her that now, or joke about it, since she'd probably have been embarrassed, or hit him, even when they were on good terms. But he ached to tell her anyway. It wanted to come so naturally off his tongue.

Trisha shivered, and he felt guilty. Her outfit was a lot colder than his, which involved pants, a stylish red button down silk shirt, and a thick long black leather jacket.

:Here,: Tore pulled off his jacket and handed it to Trisha.

Roy felt jealous, even if that was unfair, as he watched Trisha take it and thank Tore with a grateful smile. He'd been about to… but he'd stopped. Why? If he had just been a minute faster-

_Pain! _

The jolt hit Roy in the side and leg before he registered anything was happening. Then their attackers were on them and he was spinning to get his leg up and his foot into the chest of the next guy who came at him with –of all things- an electric taser.

Roy immediately wished he'd had his gloves on. He'd have had the guy off with a single burst of flames. Instead, he fell back into defensive stance as three came at him at once, and he blocked one, then the other, but the third hit him again with the taser, this time in the shoulder. His left arm went temporarily numb and he stumbled over one of the other guys coming to his feet.

In the chaos he could a blur of wind as Trisha managed a transmutation and it shoved six guys back as they circled her. Closson was still beside her, and he'd dropped to the ground, lightning arching around them out of nowhere.

Roy scrambled and brought an arm up in time to block the next attack, but he could only do that. He didn't have the room to maneuver or the time to draw a circle. He'd have to rely on his combat skills and try and make his way to the circle Closson and Trisha were maintaining of clear space as they fought what appeared to be at least ten attackers.

Someone wanted them out of the way. Roy redoubled his efforts, knocking his first attacker unconscious and kicking him to the side as he fought off the next two, until another hurtled out of the shadows in his peripheral and he spun to meet him out of instinct, leaving his side open.

The sickening crack in his side and stabbing pain in the ribs threw him off balance, and his new assailant tackled him head on. Roy brought up his right arm to block, but it was all he could do before something hard slammed into his stomach, and he felt the world rising up to meet him and a hard, cold thwack in the skull. Splitting pain. Dizziness….

* * *

><p>Trisha couldn't see through the onslaught as she drove their attackers back with slice after slice of wind, and Tore held them back with lightning. Five were already unconscious on the ground, but there were still seven standing. She was panting, and sweating now from the fight. A scratch on her cheek stung, but it wasn't worth more than a moment's irritation. She just knew one thing. <em>Someone<em> had set them up! Was it Gavril? She didn't want to think so, even if he was the one who had given them the location. He couldn't have known when they would be there.

:Look out!: Tore shouted, and Trisha ducked a vicious kick that would have taken her in the head. She shot back with a lance of wind up the guy's crotch, and he fell to the ground, howling in agony.

:Funny, most guys like that move,: Trisha sneered.

A shrill whistle filled the air around them, and Trisha felt a moment's panic before she realized it was their salvation. The Petrayevka city police, a full squad of them, charged around the corner, batons and guns out, and a moment later their attackers were scattering, leaping through windows, scrambling down alleyways.

:Are you all right?: A tall, muscular blond built like a truck asked with surprising concern as he approached.

Tore stood, and Trisha straightened up, nodding despite being shaken by the suddenness of the attack. There had been no warning, nothing to set off her senses. Whoever they were, they were good at this.

Her face hurt, and her knee was throbbing though she had no memory of injuring it.

Tore looked battered and bruised, but otherwise uninjured. :We're all right,: he replied with a nod. :Thank you, Chief Talhoven.:

Trisha looked for Roy, and he heard almost stopped cold. :Tore… Roy's gone!:

He froze, and looked to where the police were rounding up the dazed and dropped assailants. The rest had fled…and the Firestorm alchemist was nowhere to be seen.


	11. Chapter 11

**July 9****th****, 1973 Cont'd**

Consciousness was not a pleasant state to return to. Aching all over and unable to see, it took Roy several seconds to reach a level out of the depths of grogginess where he could determine his situation.

The ropes cutting into his wrists told him he was bound; his ankles too. The room was dark, and his eyes could not fathom even the minutest light. His shoulder, despite being wrenched behind him, was fiery agony, and felt dislocated, as much as the pain in his ribs implied breaks. He didn't think they were only cracked. The dislocated arm throbbed, and wetness on his skin told him there was blood, though it seemed sticky, not fresh.

Dry mouth with vodka was a disgusting flavor, he thought, as he tried to take further stock of his surroundings. He was definitely alive, but where the heck was he? And how long had he been unconscious?

A click, and a crack, and suddenly blinding golden light spilled across his eyes, and the world went from black to pain until frantic blinking began to bring things into focus. Two men, large, hulking, moved into the room as silhouettes. Then a light clicked on from above, and the room was bathed in synthetic light.

Roy stared at them, recognizing neither from the street. :What do you want?: he asked around his dry mouth.

The taller of the two leaned against the wall, not looking worried or impressed. :Information,: he replied simply. :Tell us everything you know.:

Roy tried a weak smile. :That could take an awfully long time.:

:Idiot.: the wider-shouldered guy moved forward and cuffed Roy upside the head. Immediately he saw stars and wished he hadn't said that…his head hurt something fierce.

:Tell us what you've learned since coming here,: the taller man clarified. :We know you've been snooping around.:

Oh great, it was going to be an interrogation. Well, Roy had no intention of giving them anything that might tell them what Closson and Trisha and he knew so far, or had guessed, about this little political extremist group.

Stalling would give them more time to be hunted down too. The way they had bound him, he had no hope of creating a transmutation circle.

So, he'd stall. :Oh I wasn't stalking you guys,: he grinned. :I was admiring the hot babes you have up here.:

The next cuff to the head threatened to knock him more than dizzy.

* * *

><p>"We have to go find him!" Trisha glared at Tore defiantly, knowing she was going to get in trouble for it later, but she didn't care.<p>

"Trisha, not right now," Tore replied with surprising patience as he pressed one hand firmly down on her shoulder, and pushed her back into her seat. "The police are on it. Security's on it. They'll find out what happened to Roy, and where they've taken him. Or they'll find them all burnt to a crisp as soon as they're dumb enough to give him a moment to transmute," he added with a knowing smile.

Trisha hoped he didn't think that was reassuring. "But what if they don't?" she asked flatly. "What if this has something to do with the fact we're alchemists, not just Amestrians?"

"Which is exactly why you should stay here, and rest up."

Trisha had no intention of doing either. They had been looked over by a physician and patched up and declared otherwise fit. It didn't make her feel better that the Ambassadors had already contacted Gurina, and the government was mounting a full emergency search. Roy could be hurt, or dead! And if he was the latter, she was never going to forgive herself. Her injuries were nothing compared to the pain in her heart. Whatever their arguments lately, she couldn't deny that she still loved him. They had been friends forever, and she couldn't stand the thought of losing him like this. "Fine," she replied, trying to sound resigned. "I'll go take a nap. Is that productive enough for you?"

"That would be a good idea," Tore agreed, relaxing as she seemed to give in. "You and I will both need to be fresh for when they do find him."

"Right." Trisha didn't say much else as she headed up to her room, which was currently otherwise unoccupied despite the late hour of the night. Her roommate was on the security team working with the Drachman police.

She closed the door behind her, and walked over to the bed and sat down, and waited for several minutes, listening to the movement below and outside her door. Thanks to the attack, the building interior security was on higher alert.

Still, she didn't think that would be too much of a problem for her plan. Changing clothes into something much more functional, and warmer, she slipped into dark slacks and a dark turtleneck and a jacket, and went over to the window and looked down. It was only three stories to the ground. No big deal for an alchemist; especially not one of Elric blood. Grateful for the transmutation circles etched into her small earrings, she kept the sounds muffled as she opened the window, scrambled out onto the narrow ledge, and climbed down the vines that ran up the building, and landed lightly on the grass below.

She slipped quietly out of the small side yard, and hurried off into the night. The only person who might know where Roy was that she could think of to ask –that no one else might- was Gavril. If he had _anything_ to do this with attack she was going to have his hide!

Trisha's heard was pounding by the time she reached Gavril's house. She didn't care if he was awake as she stormed up to the gate and used air to forced it open without damaging it. She strode right up to the house and sent a whip of air upward to slam into the window she now knew belonged to his bedroom. She rapped against it repeatedly until a light appeared through the thick curtains.

A few seconds later Gavril looked down at her, bleary eyed and surprised. :Trisha?:

He was either a very good actor, or completely clueless as to what was going on all over the city. Now, wasn't that interesting? :I need answers,: she replied sharply. :We need to talk, now!:  
>To his credit, he nodded. :I'll be right there,: he said before closing the window tightly again. Trisha waited less than a minute before the bolt shot back on the inside of the door, and Gavril himself –in a night robe- opened the door and let her in.<p>

:Now what is going on?: he asked sharply. :I'm not used to having anyone bang on my door at three in the morning for anything less than a government emergency.:

:Roy, Tore and I got ambushed on the street earlier tonight and they took Roy,: Trisha blurted out sharply. :While we were checking out the _Crystal Cavern_ like _you_ suggested.:

Gavril's face went ashen, and then he cursed. :You're all right?:

:Except for Roy, obviously.: Trisha was quickly losing her patience. :Now do you have any idea what's going on because if you were any way involved in this I swear I—:

:Stop!: Gavril put a hand up. :No, I do not know where your friend is, and I assure you I'm not involved. Though right now I am wondering why my uncle hasn't called me. But I think we should pay a visit to someone who might have an idea where they're keeping Mustang.:

To have a plan of attack, even if it was investigative, was more of a relief than Gavril's assurance that he wasn't involved. :Who?: she asked as he turned and headed for the stairs.

:Talya.:

* * *

><p>:Roy's missing?: Talya asked with a look of shock and concern.<p>

:Yes,: Trisha replied promptly, standing in the middle of the woman's living area in her apartment.

:I thought you might have some guesses as to where he could have been taken,: Gavril replied more politely. :You were investigating there hideouts.:

:She was?: Trisha looked at Gavril sharply. Why hadn't he told them that earlier?

:I have been,: Talya nodded, moving over to the little kitchenette and taking a pot of hot water off the stove. :But I'm afraid I haven't had much luck. All the leads I had I told Roy about, which means, I presume you've already looked into them.:

:We did,: Trisha nodded reluctantly, taking a seat on the couch next to Gavril. She had to stifle a yawn. It was almost four in the morning now. :None of them would have made good places to keep a hostage.:

:Which is why I don't have much else to offer,: Talya admitted. :There are a couple of places we could look, but I haven't verified that they're any good. One is a warehouse down by the river. The other is down in the cattle area of the business district.:

:Cattle?: Trisha looked between them.

:The stock yards and meat processing plants,: Gavril explained. :Smelly area, but that deters people from hanging out around there. It would be a pretty good place for a hide-out.: He nodded thoughtfully. :But then, so are the river warehouses. We should check both.:

:We.: Trisha looked at Gavril. :You're coming with me?:

:I'm not letting you go anywhere without back up,: Gavril replied, then his smile turned a bit knowing. :And I'm betting you didn't come knocking at my door at three in the morning on official business.:

:Not official,: Trisha conceded. He was right. She could go to Tore now, and he'd send people to investigate both areas, but she wouldn't be one of them if she did. Tore would have _her_ under lock and key for directly defying orders to stay at the Embassy. :We should go now, while we can.:

:Do you want me to come?: Talya offered as she pulled out three cups and mixed what looked like instant coffee. The smell hit Trisha's nose a moment later, confirming her guess.

:No, it's all right,: Gavril answered even before Trisha could say no. He took a cup from Talya though, when she offered it, and so Trisha did the same, though she watched, carefully, to make sure Talya drank some first.

:Trisha and I will handle it. If you're up for the morning though, you might see what else you can dig up. If anyone's scrambling right now, with the cops out and over a dozen captives, they might slip up and finally make a mistake.:

:Of course. I'll be on it,: Talya promised. :Good luck,: she looked directly at Trisha then. :I hope you find him.:

In that moment, Trisha wondered if Talya really knew how she felt about Roy… and she wondered what Talya really felt –if anything- for Roy. But she didn't ask. :Oh don't doubt it. I'll find him.:

**July 10****th****, 1973**

:Easy there now,: Urey said soothingly to the white tiger kitten as he finished cleaning its cage. The animal, flattened against the back nervously, still watched him with curiosity. Maybe it was his kindness that made it possible for him to clean the cage, when the ten pound kitten slashed and growled at almost anyone else who came near it.

Lucky for him, Urey thought, that the animals in the chimera cages –the ones that hadn't been transformed yet at least- seemed to respond well to him. Even some of the smaller chimeras; the animal-animal combinations, tolerated him at the worst. He hadn't been injured yet, and he hoped to keep it that way. So he was as kind to them as he could be without drawing too much attention to himself.

This was probably Urey's least favorite of the tasks Garrin had assigned him, but he knew it still needed to be done. Though the challenge was dealing with the human chimeras. They didn't like being locked up or treated like animals, and so they verbally abused anyone who came near them. He also couldn't open the cages.

And today, no one else was in the room, so if anything happened, Urey was entirely on his own.

He swallowed as he walked up to the large cage –which was actually a small room with an open-barred door. :Excuse me. Please pass out the bed pans,: he said, as matter-of-factly as he could manage.

:Well, this one's almost polite,: he heard a growl inside.

:Quiet, Gregori,: another voice hissed, and a moment later Urey found himself looking at the man who was half white-bear. He was holding the chamber pots, which slid in and out the same slot sized for food dishes at the bottom of the door. Urey tried not to think about that too much as he bent down and retrieved them.

:Thank you,: he replied simply before taking them to the nearest bathroom, emptying them, rinsing them, and returning. When he got back, the half-bear was still hulking there in front of him, looking thoughtful. Urey crouched down and slid both back in and stood, meeting his eyes evenly. :Was there something you wanted?:

:You should get out of here,: the chimera warned. :I don't know what Garrin has promised you, but I can assure you, it's not worth it.:

Oh he knew that well enough, but Urey stuck to his part. :I'm not starving and I get all the research and materials I could ever want. I might get to bring my little sister back to life.:

The bear sighed; an odd sound coming out of his half-muzzle shaped face. :It can't be done boy. I'm telling you, go. You're too decent to be here, and your life is in danger.:

:My life?: Urey pretended to be surprised at the idea, though really he was a little surprised at the honesty of the chimera. :What do you mean?:

:I mean Garrin can't be trusted,: the chimera replied. :He uses alchemists in his experients too, especially younger ones. He's offered you the chance to bring back your sister, but that's only because he wants you to fail. Attempts at human transmutation are how he's trying to make homunculi. But, of course, he's too much of a coward to try it himself. He wants you to open the gate of truth for him. Those who survive are maimed. Those who fail… he uses for philosopher's stones, or turns into a chimera, like me.:

:You?:

:I was one of the first researchers here,: he replied with a sad nod. :I refused to break the taboo. Though things were less efficient then. I was locked up first, and he tried to get me to change my mind. Once he beat everything I knew out of me, the experiments started. Now I am this thing.:

:Thank you for the warning,: Urey replied honestly, though he regretted he couldn't heed it. He certainly wanted to. But of course, all of this was why he was here in the first place. :I can't leave yet, but I will try as soon as I can.: The last he said even lower, so that the others wouldn't hear him. :Now, as you were,…: he said again louder.

The chimera nodded. "Sasha," he supplied his name before he turned and walked away.

* * *

><p>Cal approached the bushes from a different direction, not directly, but from a circuitous route that took him from the mess hall by the barracks, to the privies, to one of the barracks where he had been pretending to have a girl, to another set of barracks, and then along the wall, keeping an ear and an eye out in the darkness for guards, or for anything happening on the other side.<p>

Thankfully cloudy nights were common, and it was dark enough he was able to slip back into the bushes unnoticed, even though he narrowly missed avoiding three guards on the way.

:They're active tonight,: he commented softly to Myra as he pulled food out of his pockets. Tonight, two rolls, cut open and slathered in butter and laid with the stringy beef-roast that had been served at dinner, and a handful of the small summer strawberries prevalent in the area.

Myra ate them thankfully, though with a little more decorum than the first time he had come. :They took more people inside,: she informed him when she finished. :I heard them earlier.: She shivered, and Cal put an arm gently around her shoulder.

:Do you know who, or how many?: he asked gently.

Myra shook her head. :Just a fairly large crowd. The door on that side is relatively near the wall. When I hide in the back, I can hear them clearly.:

Well now that was useful news. Cal hadn't considered making use of the brambles. He wondered, if they did grow all the way to the walls, had they been there long enough to eat away at them at all?

He was about to suggest taking a look, when the bushes to their right rustled. :Hey, who's in there?: an authoritative sounding voice barked.

Damn. Cal took a slow breath, not moving. Under his arm, Myra froze. If they held still, hopefully the guard would decide he had heard a ground squirrel or something and move on.

No luck. :I'm coming in if you don't come out right now,: he replied. :Don't pretend you're not in there. I saw you.:

Had he? Cal didn't think he'd been watched. But it was pretty dark.

Myra mouthed at him in the dim, dappled light, :What do we do?:

Cal's mind raced, but he knew that the guard meant it. He would need to come out. Maybe he could do it without revealing Myra? But then he'd have to explain what he was doing in there. :I have an idea,: he said removing his arm and grabbing her hand. :Follow me, and just play along.:

She barely had time to squeak in protest before Cal was crawling out of the bush with her in hand, doing his best to look sheepish as he pulled her close. :Sorry, sir,: he replied. :Didn't know the bush was off limits. We were just looking for somewhere… private.:

The guard flashed his light blindingly in both of their faces. :It's almost curfew. Get back to your barracks and if I see you out again you'll be in trouble.:

:Yes sir. Come on, honey,: Cal slid his arm around Myra's shoulder and started walking her straight back towards his own barracks, as if she belonged.

They walked together half way down to the mess before he steered her purposefully towards one of the all-women's barracks. He wasn't entirely sure where to take her except there. If he told them she was new, than maybe she could blend back in until he could get her out.

They stopped in the shadow of one of the buildings, and he took a deep breath of relief when he glanced back and they weren't being followed.

Myra was shaking slightly. She turned and looked up at him. :It worked,: she commented in amazement.

:It's all in how you sell it,: Cal assured her with a smile.

:You're amazing.:

:Well I wouldn't say—"

Her lips on his cut off anything else he might have said. For a moment, startled, Cal didn't respond, then he put his hands on her shoulders and, feeling oddly shaken, pushed her carefully away.

Myra looked up at him, surprised, then hurt, then embarrassed; the emotions flickering across her face in seconds. :I…:

:I'm flattered,: Cal cut her off before it got further. :But I have someone else. She's not here. But I'm going back to her as soon as I can. I'm married.:

Her expression went straight to mortified. :I had no idea! Why didn't you say something?:

:It wasn't relevant. I didn't think you would take a friendly offer as anything more than that,: Cal admitted honestly, glad she hadn't thrown a fit. At least, not yet. :I wasn't trying to lead you on, Myra. You… remind me a little of my…well, my daughter actually.: He felt so old admitting that. "Older than her, she's younger, but still.:

She seemed to be processing that information. Then she nodded. :I see. Well, thank you for getting me out of that. What now?:

:I'll take you to one of the other barracks. Blend back in with the women and just tell people you're new if anyone asks. Make up another name. Whatever it takes to buy yourself some time. I'll need to come up with a way to get you out of here, but you'll have someplace to sleep other than a bush, and regular meals.:

Myra nodded. :I can do… that.:

Her eyes went wide, and suddenly her face caught a faint red glow.

Startled, Cal looked up, though it was more the sudden rush of alchemical energy he could sense than the light that told him what it was. The glow was coming from the top of one of what he had taken for smoke stacks on top of the building. It went on for nearly half a minute before it faded away again.

:What _is_ that?: Myra asked after a minute. :I've seen it before, always after people go away, but they never would tell us what it was.:

:Alchemy.: Cal could at least tell her that much. :A particular type of alchemy. And not a good one.:

:That glow frightens me,: Myra admitted. :What does it mean?:

Cal really didn't want to go into that. :It means you shouldn't mess with it,: he replied vaguely. :Now come on, let's get you to the barracks. As the man said, it's almost curfew.:

Myra nodded and followed him, though she didn't try and get close to him again. :This woman of yours, you love her.:

:I do,: Cal replied. :She's my wife. We have two kids, a daughter and a son.:

:Then why are you here?:

:Because what I'm doing here will protect my home.:

Myra stopped again. :Then good luck, and thank you again for taking so much time out to help a stranger.:

:You're welcome.: Cal relaxed, glad she wasn't taking his rejection hard. He hadn't had to deal with this kind of problem in a while! :And I couldn't leave you in that bush. If my wife ever found out I didn't help a nice young woman out of trouble, well not only could I not live with myself, but she'd kill me.:

Myra chuckled softly. :I think I like her.:


	12. Chapter 12

**July 11****th****, 1973**

Trisha couldn't decide what was more infuriating; the fact that Tore was still furious at her more than a full day later for sneaking out on her own to investigate, or the fact that both of Talya's suggested _hide outs_ for places Roy might have been taken had turned out to be complete dead ends.

The warehouse by the river had been completely empty save for a shipment of crated dried fish. And the building down by the cattle yards had been one of the foulest smelling places she had ever been, and she and Gavril had still not found a single thing. Trisha had returned empty handed, smelly, and Tore had noticed she was missing. The dressing down had not gone well for her.

It had taken her all of the day before, and most of today to convince him to let her go out again. This time it had only been with the agreement that she go actively armed with a service pistol, and that she stay in public areas that were well lit.

By the time she was ready to go, Trisha was just glad he hadn't tried to assign more security to her. But even he knew that would just make her more of a target. That was also why she wasn't going with him, or without a bit of a disguise.

It wasn't a whole lot of one, but she had used hairspray, a little make-up, and a little alchemy on borrowed clothes to make herself blend in more, and not be nearly as obvious.

Which was fine, since as soon as she got out into the evening, she blended into the crowds and did her best to vanish from the view of anyone watching the embassy. Looking like one of the Drachman women who had been in and out of the embassy delivering messages since they arrived, she doubted anyone found her odd.

Though as soon as she was out of sight, she turned her coat around inside-out (thank you alchemy) and vanished into the crowd heading towards the part of town that held Talya's apartment.

No matter how she acted, Trisha didn't trust the woman who had obviously –she felt- sent her and Gavril off on a wild chimera chase. Now she just had to get to the apartment before Talya went out for the evening. One thing Trisha did know from Gavril; Talya didn't like to sit at home alone. So Trisha was banking on that fact, and the disappearance of Roy, for Talya to lead her either someplace where she might find out information Talya wasn't sharing, or if she was lucky the location of Roy itself. In which case, she would rescue him if she could, and go for back up if she couldn't do it on her own.

As it turned out, she only had to hang out in front of the drug store across from Talya's apartment for about half an hour before the woman came out and headed down the street. Grateful for the early evening crowds, Trisha had little trouble following without being noticed. It helped that Talya was making no attempt at all to be secretive or avoid notice.

The reason for that became clearer as Trisha followed her straight down to the row of night clubs and dining establishments that stayed open late. There was no reason to hide coming here, Talya did it all the time, just like most of the younger adult population of Petrayevka. This was party central for Drachma.

Trisha couldn't say she was surprised, though she was disappointed when Talya went straight into _The Crystal Cavern._ Didn't the woman go anywhere else? Or maybe, Trisha thought, she really just was out on the town looking for friends and a good drink, or a fellow to take home.

Jealousy spiked at that idea. Trisha reminded herself that Roy had insisted that nothing had really happened, but part of her had to wonder if he had been telling the whole truth.

Trisha had no trouble getting in behind her, and casually hanging out along the wall as she scanned the room as if looking for a place to sit. What she found was Talya, already across the room, going through a door near the back, by the bathrooms.

Now that was curious. Trisha strolled over that direction, heading for the bar and not looking at the door as she avoided drawing too much attention. She wasn't the only one in here still in their coat, so she figured she was all right for the moment.

She sidled up to the bar, ordered a simple drink, and waited.

As soon as it arrived, she took it, moved away from the bar, and waited for the song to end. As soon as it did, the bar was crowded by thirsty folks off the dance floor, which was exactly what she had been waiting for.

Leaving a mostly untouched drink on the edge of a table, Trisha moved around to that back door by the bathrooms, and ducked through it.

On the other side, she found a poorly, though regularly, lit hallway that ran down at least half the length of the building as far as she could tell, with very few doors in it. The first one she came to was a utility room, and the second a janitor's closet. There was no reason for Talya to be back here as a gust, though she was nowhere in sight.

Having a feeling she might be on to something, Trisha moved slowly and cautiously down the hall, though not before using the transmutation circle in her earrings to quietly and carefully reach outward, muffling the sounds of her feet even as she extended the range of her hearing. The last thing she needed was to get caught.

* * *

><p>:Slow down,: Al groaned as he watched Ed happily eating his way through his third bowl of white borscht.<p>

:What for?: Ed asked, grinning at his brother's expression. :This is good stuff. Far better than they're serving outside. This, I might actually want to take home the recipe for and see if Winry can make it.:

:And how are you going to get it out of the cook?: Al asked skeptically. The stout, middle aged woman scowled at everyone and didn't seem to like anyone.

:With my good looks and boyish charms of course,: Ed replied with casual good nature. The conversation was only partially feigned, it really was good for, but at the moment they were keeping the conversation casual and, as usual, as un-suspicious as possible.

Really, Ed was keeping an eye out for Urey. The boy should have already finished his assignment with Garrin and be here by now. They had seen him come in about the same time each night since they'd gotten inside. They had finally connived it so that the only seats left available were near them at the end of a corner table, and they had managed to convey to Urey – through a carefully cryptic message encoded as directions for an experiment- that he should meet up with them so that they could talk.

The problem was, dinner was almost over, and Urey still hadn't shown his face.

:What do you think?: Al asked vaguely after a while.

Ed sipped his coffee. :Maybe he had extra work,: he replied simply. :Or one of the others made him clean up their research station and is sitting here somewhere.:

:Wouldn't put it past them,: Al agreed. There were a few legitimate alchemical researchers left in the facility, though Al had noticed that the majority of them were also the ones assigned to working on the actual agricultural research that the government was funding. Most of the ones doing what Garrin had going as his special side projects, were the kind of alchemists Ed and Al had spent their childhood, and half their adult lives, tracking down and disabling.

The legitimate alchemists Ed would have liked to speak with a lot more, and had managed to get a couple of begrudging conversations out of, but at this point they mostly kept to themselves and didn't trust anyone who didn't show up with government papers.

Ed didn't blame them one bit. He also didn't trust them not to turn him in on the spot if they found out he was Amestrian, let alone who he was.

He had, more than once, toyed with the idea of just declaring himself Edward Elric, Fullmetal Alchemist, and busting his way into the back rooms, taking out every alchemist in the place, and destroying everything that could possibly be trouble and being done with it, but it was only a fantasy, however satisfying. He had learned far too much over the years to think that something that audacious –despite what he'd pulled at the doors- would be effective. Especially not if there might be homunculi somewhere behind hidden doors. Or more chimeras, not that those really scared him. Chimeras he and Al could handle, however well crafted. Homunculi were an entirely different category of difficult, and he wanted Urey with them, and Cal if that could be managed, before they fought them. So it was in their best interests to remain under cover.

So where the heck was Urey?

* * *

><p>Urey said nothing as he followed Professor Garrin from his work area down the hall, through the chimera research area, and into the door beyond, which glowed red when opened. He hadn't been allowed through here like this before now, and while part of him was excited, a smarter part of him was nervous as he watched Garrin's back.<p>

The Professor had told him to come with him, he needed Urey's particular talents for an important experiment. Given where they were going, Urey suspected he was going to be asked to do something that would make his skin crawl with disgust.

Not that he had any idea what he would do. He couldn't do it, but he wasn't sure that refusing would do him any good. It would turn Garrin against him, and possibly get him killed in the process. He was prepared, he thought, for the eventuality of death, but that didn't mean he liked it or wanted to die for no good reason! Dying here without accomplishing anything would be a real waste, and he wasn't ready to do that.

Still, his stomach lurched when he looked at the room. Large, round, with transmutation circles inscribed all around the walls, and on the floor. And standing at intervals and through a large vein in the wall, what had to be thousands of gallons of red water.

Urey didn't see any people, but he would bet anything that somewhere near by were dozens of people, possibly hundreds, that this circle would take, and combine their souls with the red water, to create philosopher's stones to amplify the powers of other alchemists… or worse, to use as the solid core that would allow Garrin to give homunculi bodies.

:This is it,: Garrin turned then and beamed at him. :You have impressed me, boy, with your study and for that, I wish your help with this particularly important transmutation. Help me with this, and it's a major step towards getting your little sister back.:

_Bull shit._ Urey snorted in his head, though he kept his expression innocently curious, then hopeful. :Really, Professor? That's wonderful!:

:Ah yes, it is. But it's just one step,: Garrin nodded. :I need you to use this circle to combine all of this red water into stones for me. We have enough ingredients here that you should be able to form several ones of decent size.:

:I'm going to make stones?: Urey feigned surprise. :Are you sure I'm ready?:

:Absolutely, my boy. Have some confidence. You're a natural. Now I've shown you elements of this circle before. It should look reasonably familiar. All you need to do is activate it, and keep it activated until all of the red water is used up.:

:Aren't there more ingredients?: Urey asked, trying not to swallow his tongue.

:We keep them in the storage room below for easy access, but we can't very well pile them all in here. It requires so much cleaning up afterwards, and it's much more efficient this way.:

_Efficient._ Urey had to fight his temper as he thought of the people who were somewhere below his feet, probably not knowing what was coming. Still, what could he do? He only had moments to decide. He could refuse… or he could agree. Then he'd have to find a way to stall for time. But no one knew he was in here, and almost no one had any reason to come looking or to try and stop what he was doing. Unless Grandpa and Great-uncle Al realized something was up.

But he couldn't count on that. _Damn it, what do I do now?_

* * *

><p>Given he couldn't see out of the eye, Roy's best guess that it was still working was the blur on that side, the watering, and the throbbing pain. The sharp pain in his side told him the ribs were bruised, probably broken.<br>These guys really took giving a guy a beating to a new level. Patient, calculating, they were good at delivering blows that injured without rendering him unconscious or incapable of speech. And they hadn't yet sunk down into the levels of cruel and unusual torture.

But it was clear that they were losing their patience.

:You will answer now?: the taller one asked.

Roy licked his dry mouth, and bloody lip, and shook his head. "No," he managed to get out, then braced himself for the blow he knew was coming…

:That's enough!:

That…voice! Roy looked up, startled, and immediately regretted it as lights danced in his vision and his head throbbed harder. A shapely silhouette, the female voice… he was saved! Or she was in terrible trouble. :Talya!:

She looked over at him as he managed to focus on her. She moved across the room, striding towards the two men with a glare. :You could not have damaged him less?: she growled. :We have to return him, and now I've had to come down and handle this myself. I am not pleased, and neither are the Commanders.:

Commanders? Roy's fleeting hope faded. :You're one of them?: he asked, stunned to the core.

:You are far too trusting, Roy,: Talya replied with a rueful smile. :But then, that's one of the things I like most about you.:

:You played me!: Fury and indignation gave him new strength, and he struggled against his bonds, but the chair didn't move.

:Quite easily,: Talya nodded, turning away from the men and coming right up to him so that Roy had to look up sharply –and painfully- past a view of her chest he could not appreciate, to her face. :Please, Roy, just tell us what intelligence you've gathered on us, and this can end.:

:I'm not sure I like the sound of that,: Roy replied with a cocky smile. :I was just starting to like it, and now you're here to make it even more pleasurable.:

:Very funny.: Her smile dropped. :We need to know. If you want to live, Mustang, than you will tell us what you and the other Amestrian Alchemists have uncovered.:

Maybe there was a way to work this to his advantage. After all, it wasn't as if they had learned much that was really all that secret. :Tell me what's going on, and I will. A fair exchange of information,: Roy suggested.

:Stubborn, but you have a backbone.: Talya sighed, then shrugged. :All right. The basics. Drachma needs economic growth and recovery, no one disputes this, but the methods the government is using are too, how to put this… soft. They're playing right into international hands, giving other countries the ability to make unreasonable deals that profit themselves more than us. We look weak. Drachma needs to restore its glory on Drachman terms.:

Short, to the point, and painfully absolutist. Roy didn't like how this sounded one bit. :Even to the point of terrorism?:

:If it took another war, I would be behind it,: Talya admitted. :If only to boost production and the economy. But then what do you know? You Amestrians have everything, and you think you can have everyone else too.:

Roy couldn't help scoffing. :Everything? My mother's family was slaughtered in Aerugo for standing up for what was right against a subversive government. Don't talk like I don't understand.:

:Then you _should_ understand.:

:The reasons yes, but I don't condone your methods,: Roy replied. :They won't win people over to your cause. Drachma's had enough of violence. Peace can build what war tears down.:

:Bah,: Talya turned away, irritation flashing in her dark eyes, which were no longer nearly as alluring as they had been the other night. :Some soldier you must be, talking of peace. You're like Gavril, too soft for your own good.:

Then she turned with surprising speed and slammed her high heeled boot into his broken ribs.

* * *

><p><em>Think fast, Urey, he's waiting on your answer and if you don't tell him what he wants to hear he's going to know something's up. <em>Urey moved towards the circle, though he couldn't entirely feel his muscles in that moment, it was like his body was moving on its own while his brain raced, much more quickly, trying to think of a way out, or an excuse, or anything he could manage to do that would put this off or stop it all together. Could he take Garrin in a fight? He wasn't sure. He'd never seen the man in action, and he'd only seen him do some relatively uncomplicated transmutations.

:Something wrong?:

:What? Oh ah, no,: he stammered. :Well, I'm a little nervous,: he admitted. :I've never done anything this big before.:

:First time for everything,: Garrin assured him with a casual wave. :You may take a few moments to examine the circle if you like, get more familiar with it, but we do need to do this quickly. This room is needed again for other studies soon, and we need these stones to help augment some of the transmutations we're doing in several key areas.:

Urey didn't ask what those areas were. That, he knew, would be pushing it too far. He nodded, and took the time Garrin had given him, pacing around the circle, going over every line with his eyes wondering, as he started to form the barest hint of a plan, if he could change the transmutation circle just enough that he could form the red water into solid matter without transmuting the people below, and simply making red stones that were pretty, but utterly useless. Garrin wouldn't know until he tried to use them, but it would give Urey time, and might get him out of here alive.

But how? He couldn't outright change the circle with Garrin watching. He would have to be subtle about it. If he-

:That's enough time,: Garrin replied, looking a bit waspish. :Get on with it.:

Urey approached the circle, sure he was sweating. He could feel the back of his shirt getting a little sticky. It didn't help that the room was kept awfully warm.

Behind him, he heard a thump outside the door. He paused, and looked up.

Garrin, also surprised, didn't snap at him, but frowned. Then he looked at Urey and waved at the circle. :Keep going.:

Another thump, and suddenly something slammed and crashed, though it was surprisingly muffled by the door. The walls were thicker than Urey had realized. Or better sound proofed.

Garrin was moving towards the door when it turned bright blue and burst inward in hundreds of flying pieces of wood. He screamed and dove, and dust from falling wall filled the air.

Through the dooway stepped two figures, and Urey's heart leapt in relief as he recognized those familiar shapes.

Garrin struggled to his feet, holding up a metal carved transmutation circle hanging from a leather thong around his neck. :Get back or you'll wish you were dead!:

Grandpa Ed laughed as he and Al materialized out of the dust. :Don't be ridiculous, Garrin,: he snorted. :Four of your best guys are laying in there wishing the same thing. Taking you out will not only be a piece of cake, but a bona fide pleasure."


	13. Chapter 13

**July 11****th****, Cont'd**

Urey's heart surged with relief as he watched Garrin stare at Edward and Alphonse with the realization that somewhere he had apparently made a very big mistake. With those eyes off him, he stood up and backed away from the circle immediately. Now if he could just edge around the room back to Grandpa, they could make a break for it.

What he didn't expect was Garrin's sudden laugh. :You're fools! Think of the opportunity you've wasted.:

:You're the fool, Garrin,: Ed retorted with a smug expression. :And far too trusting. Taking in any alchemist that comes to your door with a lick of ability.:

:Am I now…. Fullmetal Alchemist?:

Urey almost tripped over his feet. He_ knew_?

Ed looked momentarily blank, then shrugged as if this revelation were nothing. :Is that who you think I am?: he asked casually.

:I was in the war,: Garrin reminded them. :I had my suspicions, Elric. Though I only ever saw you from a distance. But you've made a premature and pointless attack, barging in here. Why now?:

It was Al who replied with a smile as confident as his brother's. :Because we're not the only infiltrator's here.:

Urey took that as his cue. Garrin was as distracted as he was going to get. Putting on every bit of speed he had, Urey bolted for the door, slamming into the doorjamb and flying through as he heard a sizzle and felt something hot whiz by his ear as he slammed into the wall outside. Behind him, he heard shouts, and felt bursts of alchemical energy.

"Get to the top and signal Cal!" he heard Alphonse shout behind him.

Urey didn't reply, he just kept running, vaulting over the four guys unconscious on the floor as he attempted not to trip on them. He had to find Uncle Cal and find a way to signal him that the fight had started! If they were going to take down the laboratory it was now, and all because Urey had been dragged into Garrin's schemes faster than they planned.

He heard an explosion behind him, and only strength of training kept him from turning back.

* * *

><p>Ed dodged flying debris as he dropped to the ground, using the stone floor to create a wall that blocked the worst of Garrin's alchemical attack. Coughing in the dust, he spotted Alphonse, who had dodged the other direction, behind a similar wall. :That the best you can do?: Ed taunted.<p>

The sound of stone doors grating open caught his ear. :Of course not, Fullmetal,: Garrin replied with a flat laugh. :You've seen the kind of work I do. Why should I get in a fight with you when I have my work to do it for me?:

The howl that filled the room sent a chill right up Ed's spine. Damned chimeras. He glanced around his wall and spotted six chimeras, all various levels of success at a combination of wolf and white bear. There was nothing human about this pack of beasts. :You're a coward, Garrin!: he shouted back.

:More like I plan ahead. Get them!: Garrin barked, and the chimeras flew forward.

"Al! Take the left! I've got the right," Ed shouted. "Can you take three?"

"The day you can take more chimeras than me I'll retire!" Al laughed. "Just hold your own."

"I don't think that will be a problem." Ed took a deep breath, and clapped his hands against his wall, sending it exploding outwards towards the charging chimeras. Then, without waiting, he leapt over it and into the fray, landing practically on top of the first chimera that didn't have the sense to get out of the way, coming down out of a vaulted jump to slam into its head with both legs, sending it down hard onto the ground.

A yowl of anger and pain and it's clawed hands tried to reach for his legs, but Ed was in the air again and coming down on its back, with a resounding sickening crack of the spine that turned the yowl into a shriek and a pained whimper.

Ed felt only a moment's regret for having to cause the creature pain because its creator was a coward before a larger one –this one with a particularly rough mane of brown fur and nearly twice as large- barreled into him sending Ed tumbling backwards. He turned it into a back somersault and a flip, coming up onto his feet in time to clap his hands together and slam them into the beast's chest.

It exploded from the inside.

* * *

><p>Alphonse spun and a neat round-house kick to the head tossed the pure-white furred beast in front of him across the air to the side and into the wall with a crunch and a groan as it slid down the stone and lay still. Al didn't think he had killed it, but as long as it didn't get up anytime soon that was good enough.<p>

He turned his focus immediately to the next incoming chimera –black and mangy with particularly large fangs- as he turned his recovery into another attack spin, coming in low and taking all four feet out from under it as he dropped then popped up and spun sideways, sending that one careening forward as it slid across the stone on its face.

Only one left he noted as he turned his focus on the one smart enough to have slowed and stopped outside of immediate range long enough to consider strategy.

Not that Al gave it time. He rushed the chimera, clapping his hands together as he dropped to the ground less than two meters away and sent stone spikes jutting up from the ground right through the poor creature, sending it right up and into the ceiling, pinned and dead with a spike of stone through it's vital organs.

Panting, Al turned to see how Ed was doing even as he scanned the debris for Garrin, expecting an attack at any moment.

Ed was dispatching the sixth chimera with an energy that belied his age and Al left him too it. He was more concerned about not seeing Garrin. Al felt a tingle at the base of his spine like something was about to happen.  
>A moment later, the sound of double-time marching feet coming from the same wall the chimeras had shot out of caught his ears, and rank after rank of Drachman soldiers charged into the room!<p>

They saw Al, and split, half coming for him.

There was nothing for it. Al fell into a defensive stance and gave them a calm look that dared them to try and take him down.

* * *

><p>Urey slid around another corner and almost screamed when he slammed into the solid <em>back<em> of a Drachman guard. Instead he shoved the man into the wall, and brought his hand up in a side blow to the head as the man turned, that sent him down hard, and knocked him out.

Panting, Urey stepped over him and kept running. Five strides later another Drachman –this one armed and with his weapon up- came around the corner in front of him and barely had time to draw a bead on him when Urey rushed him, as much near-panic as strategy, and ducked low, slamming into the man's midsection and knocking the wind out of him as he dropped his gun.

Urey hefted him off the ground and slammed his fist into the man's gut again before dropping him and felt like his heart, pounding in his ears, might come right up his throat as the man went limp. Urey didn't think he had killed him, and he didn't wait to find out. He grabbed the gun and, sketching a quick circle, transmuted it into slag. Now it was useless.

If he had known how to use it, Urey might have kept it, but marksmanship with a firearm was not something he had learned in Grandpa's alchemy training.

Urey stood up, took a couple of deep breaths, and just kept running. The place was up in arms now, and he knew that everyone had to know something was up. Would they be locking down the dining hall? The alchemists' quarters? How was he going to get outside and find Cal? Hell, he wasn't even back up to ground level yet!

Another turn and he was at the next staircase. He didn't pause, taking the stairs three at a time as he scrambled for ideas. Maybe he didn't have to get outside he thought as he hit the door at the top of the stairs and sprinted through it.

Maybe there was something he could do inside big enough to be noticeable outside. Surely Cal would know that if anything big was going down, at least Grandpa and Great-Uncle Al would be behind it, right?

Urey slowed just enough to catch his breath as he reached an empty hallway where he could hear nothing but himself. No need to draw any more unwanted suspicion. From here, he couldn't hear anything of the fight below. No chimeras, no alchemy, no explosions…

_Explosions!  
><em>  
>Urey made a sharp right down the first hallway he came to, hoping he wasn't misremembering the layout he had tried so hard to memorize ever since he had gotten inside. He was almost certain that the armor was on the wall facing the farmer's barracks, and if he could blow the armory… well that would get <em>everyone's<em> attention.

Urey made several more quick turns until he came, with relief, to the door he sought. It was not guarded, but that was because –he knew- it had alchemical protections and a very thick metal door.

Neither of which stopped Urey as he yanked chalk from his pocket, drew a circle on the door, and disabled the alchemical protections with about half a minute of careful alchemical transmutation of his own.

Urey slipped inside, and hoped no one came to get anything from the big room, because if they found him in here, he was probably a dead man.

Of course, he might be otherwise anyway, given the mountain of explosives in the room; ammunition, barrels of black powder, piles of grenades and walls of rifles. It was a very complete armory.

But if he blew the whole thing sky-high, he wasn't going to live to eat his mother's cooking again.

Urey took a moment to transmute a huge directional hole in the wall, and began dragging every direction explosive he could think of over to it, placing them so that –hopefully- they would all arc up into the sky and explode there, instead of hurting people outside. Surely a good light show would be enough!

Finally, several minutes later, though it felt far longer, Urey wiped the sweat from his brow as he settled the last one in place, then transmuted a long fuse that ran back to the door. He headed for the exit, opened it, and stepped out into the hallway. Then using a bit of alchemy, he lit the fuse, and slammed the door.

Seconds ticked by, nearly half a minute, then a minute.

Urey's heart began to sink. What if it didn't work? Why hadn't the explosives gone off yet? What if he had done something wrong? Maybe he should-

_Bang_! A thunderous roar went up that nearly deafened him as the whole building shook on its foundation.

* * *

><p>Cal hadn't seen Myra at dinner. Not that he'd really been looking for her, he told himself, for any reason other than friendly concern. While he would never lie and claim not to have enjoyed a kiss from a beautiful woman, the thing the night before had taught him was definitely that no women would ever turn him on again the way Alyse did.<p>

Still, her lack of appearance outside during the day was worrisome, or at dinner. What if she had been caught again or transferred? He hadn't heard of any new "promotions" or transfers beyond the wall, but that didn't mean it hadn't happened. Or that she might have been recognized and simply not been willing to fight.

So after dinner he made his way towards the barracks he had stowed her in yesterday. Tonight was the first really clear night he had seen in a while, and the stars were brilliant above, thousands of shimmering specs against the blue-black matte of the sky.

It was beautiful, though a sharp wind made him pull his coat closer around his neck and wish he'd put on his hat.

The ground beneath his feet shook, and Cal had just a moment to wonder what was going on before the entire view beyond him was bathed in a brilliant golden glow and he could hear shattering glass and screams.

He turned around and stared at the laboratory as part of the west wall had simply vanished in the explosion, and the myriad ones following as one after another after another rocked the building and explosions set off in the sky even brighter than the stars, and in many more colors. Cal briefly wondered what chemicals could have made those explosions.

But he realized much faster that this was his best opportunity for several things; to get inside, to find the Elrics… and he would bet just about anything that Ed or Al was involved in that explosion.

There were at least a dozen people running from the wall, but nearly twice that running towards it, and not only guards. There was a civilian fire service, and they were running towards it, though Cal had no idea if hoses would do any good.

Now a Whitewater Alchemist…well he could be a lot more useful.

His mind made up almost at once, Cal sprinted away from the women's barracks. Myra could wait, if she was there. And if she wasn't, then finishing this would be the best thing he could still do for her either way. And thank goodness he had moved her. The bramble bushes she had spent days hiding in were now a raging inferno.

Under other circumstances, Cal would have put out the entire fire with one huge wave of water, but right now the last thing he really wanted was to draw enough attention to himself to be discovered. So as he got close, he yanked a pencil out of his pocket, and slowed, running up against the wall and sketching out the circle he needed. Then he closed his eyes, and drew the water up from the ground, pulsing it far stronger than it ought to be through the hoses that had just been set up, and sending the water shooting out of them into the opening of the building, immediately soaking everything inside.

Startled, the men shouted and grabbed their hoses, but didn't notice Cal sneaking up in the shadows towards the now flame-less opening. Instead, their focus was on the still roaring bushes that threatened to spread elsewhere.

Cal slid over to the gaping hole and scrambled inside the building.

The room was a mess, nothing but black, dripping water and a slurry on the floor of muck nearly an inch thick. It smelled of gunshot and fireworks.

The door at the back of the room was open. Cal hoped no one was coming to see the room from the inside. He hurried over and out the open doorway, and turned right.

Urey looked up at him with a smug expression. "Uncle Cal! I had a feeling that would get your attention."

Cal blinked, then laughed. _I lost that bet._ "So it was you causing all this trouble?"

"This part," Urey nodded, then his face turned serious. "Garrin's got chimeras on Grandpa and Uncle Al down in the red room. We've got to get down there. The whole place is going crazy and—"

"And I get it," Cal cut him off sharply, then offered a look with a touch of sympathy. "Let's get back downstairs, Urey. We can't let Fullmetal and True Soul have all the fun."


	14. Chapter 14

**July 11****th****, Cont'd**

The grunts and groans were bad enough, but when the sounds elevated to a strangled scream, Trisha lost all patience with the situation. She burst through the door, heedless of the fact she was outnumbered three to one, gloves snugly on as she lashed out at Talya first, slamming the woman so hard she flipped over Roy in the chair and slammed, head down, into the wall on the other side of the room.

Trisha spun on her heels and sent a surge of air at the two burly men who charged her, their surprise not enough to slow down experienced thugs. The shove didn't stop them either, but it did slow them enough for her to focus, to think, to manipulate the air around her into a whip she could use against them, snapping and cracking into their shoulders and sides. And both men grimaced; one stumbled sideways, but the second reached her, his hand reaching to close on her shoulder as Trisha leapt backwards to avoid him-

-and tripped right over Roy, sending her, the chair, and her battered friend crashing to the floor.

"Damn it, Heimler!" Roy spat hoarsely, groaning from somewhere underneath her.

"Thank me later," Trisha retorted, scrambling to her feet barely in time to block a punch to the face, duck, and lunch inward to land her fist firmly in the man's stomach.

He doubled over and she regained her footing, and took a moment to slash air sharply across the back of the chair, cutting off Roy's ropes, and setting him free before the second thug, having regained his footing and breath, closed on her.

Then it was a fight, Trisha moving in a blur of speed she hadn't realized she had as she did her best to fight off both guys at once. She hoped Talya was out cold, because three was going to be too much, and Roy gasping on the floor did not bode well for any assistance.

One of them landed a glancing blow, then another, and she could feel her breath growing ragged, her muscles straining. There was almost no time to pull off a transmutation at all. She'd have to give herself more room. But where? How?

_What would Grandpa do? _

In that moment, it became clear, and the movements of the men around her seemed to slow as Trisha's mind focused on a plan. It might fail, but it was a plan. She dropped, and then sprung, launching herself into the air, hurtling and twisting over the heads of her opponents and barely brushing the ceiling above before she dropped to the ground again, standing behind them, but facing their backs as they began to turn towards her.

That was enough, Trisha flung her hands out, but instead of waves of air, she focused every little sound around her, pulling sound waves right through the wall, focusing and expanding them, until she knocked the men in front of her down in agony with a wall of sheer painful sound.

Thankfully Roy wasn't directly in the line of fire, because the sound was ear-splitting even to Trisha.

It lasted only seconds, and when she was done, both of her opponents lay unconscious on the floor. Panting, ears ringing, Trisha turned to Roy, who was half-way into a sitting position, bleeding from his mouth, and with enough bruises and a swollen eye, he looked awful. "Damn them," she spat as she climbed over her downed attackers, and scrambled to his side, crouching down. "Roy, are you all right?"

He smiled, though it looked more like a grimace in his current state. "You're late to the party, but I'm fine." He straightened up and staggered half-way to his feet, clutching his ribs.

"Hey, stop that," Trisha fussed, pushing him back down by the shoulders. "Let me look at you. Broken ribs?"

He nodded and didn't argue again, a sign he was really hurt. "Probably."

Trisha wished she had more healing skill as she pulled out a piece of chalk and made him hold still while she used alchemy to assess the damage. The best she could do was to verify that there was no actual internal bleeding, and stop the flow coming from his mouth. "I wish Uncle Ethan was here," she sighed when she was done. "We've got to get out of here before anyone else comes. Can you walk?"

"Yeah, I'll manage," Roy replied, glancing over towards the wall. His expression turned blank as he looked at Talya.

Trisha looked in that direction, assessing the dangers. "We should take her with us," she said, reluctantly. At least the woman was still unconscious.

"How are we going to manage that?" Roy turned back to her, and braced against her to stand. On his feet, he wobbled, but stayed upright. "You can't carry her, and right now I can't either." He looked irritated.

"Oh can't I?" Trisha couldn't help a smug smile as she transmuted, and Talya's form was lifted with air into a standing position. She floated, with her head lolled awkwardly to one side, toward them.

Trisha moved forward and checked Talya's pulse. Other than being unconscious, she seemed fine. That was good. She hadn't _really_ been trying to kill the woman. "She'll be all right." Then she turned around and quickly used Roy's ropes to bind up the other two men on the floor. She would have liked to have taken them too, but Let's go." She turned around and stepped in beside Roy as they left the room. She went to offer him her arm, but paused. No, he'd want to do this himself.

Roy paused and looked at her. "Trisha I… thanks, for coming to get you."

"You didn't think I'd leave you missing did you?" Trisha asked, feeling suddenly awkward again. For a few short minutes, she had almost forgotten that they weren't on good terms.

Roy looked at her intensely for a moment, then shook his head and turned towards the door. "Not for more than a second. Now let's go turn this bitch over to the police… so I can curl up on a nice soft bed and pass out in peace."

Presuming, of course, Trisha thought, that they got out of here without being attacked again.

* * *

><p>Ed's boot made a wonderful impression on the face of the guy in front of him as the man slammed down into the ground. It wasn't that the Drachman soldiers weren't trained, or weren't used to working together, or even that they weren't used to alchemy.<p>

They just weren't used to facing the fury of Edward and Alphonse Elric.

The dust had settled some, no thanks to the prodigious use of alchemy to use parts of the room as weapons.

Ed found himself standing, temporarily, in a clear spot, as the last five soldiers, with Garrin tucked in somewhere behind them, had pulled back to regroup. _Nice way to abandon your buddy as a distraction there, guys._ :What's the matter? Got nothing else?: he asked, taunting them.

Al came up beside him. "Looks like we've got them."

"Looks that way," Ed agreed.

"Which is why we don't believe it?" Al smiled.

"Exactly." There had to be something left up Garrin's sleeves in the depths of his own laboratory.

In most cases, having nearly two dozen bodies lying unconscious or dead on the floor would unsettle people, but somehow enemy alchemists always seemed to find it either invigorating, or not worth getting in a fuss over, even if it was their own men going down and they were running out of protection.  
>Alchemists were crazy.<p>

Garrin met Ed's eyes without a moment of hesitation, and a slow smile spread across his face. He reached one hand up behind him, and the door on the wall slid open again. :Well it's been fun, but I've had about enough of you both.: With that, he stepped inside and four more chimeras moved out, these looking no more human than the last, though Ed couldn't fully identify all the animals in the mix.

Garrin's escape hatch closed, and the chimeras moved forward, the men forming up again behind them.

:You're outnumbered,: One of the soldiers shouted, though his voice shook slightly at the end. :Give up, and you might live.:

Ed grinned at Al, who turned and shrugged at them. :We're not really worried about that.:

"Geez, couldn't you have left some for the rest of us?"

Ed turned his head and saw Cal and Urey come running into the room. He felt a moment of relief. Worried, no. But the possibility that they could die here had occurred to him. Back up was more than welcome! "We did," he replied indignantly, nodding at the nine figures across from them.

"Not enough," Urey grinned. "Four on nine is hardly a fair fight for them. How am I supposed to get any real combat experience here?"

"All right, enough griping," Al shot at them. "You're lucky we left you any at all. Now get over here."

As Cal and Urey joined them, Ed formulated a plan of attack. "Cal, take the left flank. Urey, you take the left center. Al, take the right center, and I'll pull right flank."

His only response was a round of nods, and like a practice unit, all four alchemists charged forward.

Apparently the Drachmans hadn't been ready for a physical frontal assault; foolish given they already knew Ed and Al could transmute and fight at the same time.

The Drachmans' defensive techniques were really sloppy. Ed was almost disappointed as they encountered the chimeras first –one for each of them- and he dispatched his with two well-placed blows to the head that broke its neck and sent it flying off into the rubble.

Out of the corner of his eye he could see that Al had no trouble with his chimera either, despite it being larger, and uglier, and stronger. It ran at all and found itself flipped over Al's shoulder, as Al spun and slammed his leg into its stomach as it flew behind him, slammed into the wall, and a wet crack told Ed that the neck or spine was broken.

Ed dropped to the ground as one of the Drachman guards charged him, apparently afraid to fire in close quarters. A moment later a transmuted spike of rock shot upward and destroyed the man's weapon, sending him flying backwards with a shout of surprise as the gun splintered into a hundred pieces.  
>:I don't want to kill you,: Ed said as he leaped forward and grabbed the man by the collar. :Don't make me.:<p>

At least a credit to his training, the man made a valiant attempt to struggle out of Ed's grasp, and almost managed it before Ed got him to the ground and cross-choked him. As soon as the man was unconscious, he got up and moved on.

There was no one else for Ed to fight, at least not solo.

As he turned, Cal ripped a pipe out of the ceiling and dumped water on the two men who were trying to take him down, sending them slipping and sliding and gasping, which gave Cal and Urey the chance to move in together and take them out.

Al was dispatching the only other man left standing.

"You're right," Ed grinned at the others as they straightened up and moved together and towards the wall that contained the door Garrin had disappeared through. "That was way too easy. Nice work." He clapped Urey on the shoulder. "How did you find Cal?"

"He didn't," Cal replied, dusting himself off and wringing water out of his shirt tails. "I found him. It wasn't hard. He blew up half the building."

"You did what?" Al turned to stare at Urey.

"Not half, just one wall," Urey shrugged, though his mouth quirked into a smile. "The armory's gone."

Ed felt a sense of wonderment, then pride. "Well that's one way to cause a distraction."

"Sounds like something you would do," Cal commented.

"He has, repeatedly," Al replied, rolling his eyes. "You should look at the old expense reports from back when we were first in the military. Destroying things is one of Ed's specialties."

"Hey, I've refined my techniques since then," Ed objected, going over to the wall and looking at it. They could blow their way in, but if there were more chimeras, or worse, behind that door, they might want to be able to close it again. Especially if it meant cornering Garrin. So he put his hands to the wall, and closed his eyes, letting alchemical energy flow through the wall as he felt its composition, looking for the door mechanism.

It wasn't hard to find. A few seconds later, the door slid open.

"See," Ed grinned over his shoulder. "No explosions this time."

"Great. Let's go," Al shoved him forward. "Lead the way fearless leader."

Ed wouldn't have let anyone else go first, except maybe Al, into a room where they didn't know what to expect, except that whatever was back here was Garrin's own creation, and likely to be the strongest thing they faced. It had all the classic –to him anyway- earmarks of a secret, private alchemical laboratory. Very few alchemists would have been allowed back here, and he wondered if Garrin had let, or would let, any of the ones who had helped him leave.

The hall was long and dimly lit by a couple of old bulbs that flickered weakly from the ceiling. It was uncomfortably warm, which made Ed wonder just how far down they really were. There must be natural caverns nearby.

The hall sloped downward, then curved. Moving cautiously, Ed listened hard and peered into the dim shadows as they moved cautiously around every turn.

Eventually, when Ed thought they might have curved right back around under where they started, if his sense of direction wasn't entirely screwed up, the floor flattened out again, and they found themselves facing yet another door.

If the previous one had been one they didn't want to just blow up, Ed knew better than to try it with this one. So he did the same thing, using alchemy to locate what this time turned out to be a much more complicated locking mechanism, and open it. Not with the finesse his granddaughter might have, given he forced it open with a bit of metal extruded from the rock walls, but it did the job.

"Plan?" Cal asked softly.

"Stay close," Ed replied even softer. "And, frankly, assume the worst."

"Pessimism from you, how reassuring." Cal shifted behind him.

"Actually, it is."

"Thanks, Al." _And here we go._ Ed wondered if Urey's silence was concentration or nerves, but it was too late to ask as the door slid open, revealing a large, dimly lit space with a bright light at the very top, and walls that sloped away, all brown, and slightly rough, and damp smelling.

Not that Ed could see anything, because no fool would be standing in the middle of a room like that waiting for them unless he had an army. And no army would fit in a room this size.

He let the door slide closed behind them, with the grinding of stone on stone that sounded loud, and echoed hollowly through the chamber.

"Well, this is disappointing." Ed stepped forward, but not directly into the light, his eyes flickering around the shadows, straining to see something, anything. Garrin had to have come this way, and there was no way he would let them see him go unless he thought they might follow. And he would only want them to follow if he had his strongest trump card waiting.

Impatience twitched inside him. This waiting was pointless. It was going to come to a fight, so they might as well have at it. :So where are you anyway?: he shouted into the space, which echoed after a second, and he wondered how much bigger it was than he had first thought. Looking up briefly towards the light source, he saw what looked like modern lighting crudely attached to an otherwise rough rock ceiling, hung with several lovely stalactites. :We know you're here. You know we're here.:

:Well, aren't you the cocky one.:

The voice came from just off to their left, and Ed's head jerked in that direction. Only training kept his muscles from tensing up. He was already alert for any kind of direct assault. :And what are you? The ugly one? Afraid to show your face?:

The voice was low, but too ambiguous to immediately identify a gender. :I fear nothing!:

One shape, then another, both human in form, emerged out of the darkness. Both, Ed was fairly certain, were male. They wore what appeared to be more like Drachman peasant clothing than the style of skin-tight self-formed outfits Ed was used to from homunculi, but maybe that had been only a style choice from the ones he had known before, who mostly knew each other, or might have shared creators or allies. In fact, both of these looked more human, if gaunt, and very Drachman, with dark hair and fair skin.

The taller one, with lank, straight, fairly short hair looked at him with angry eyes. This one Ed took to be the one who had spoken, and addressed him directly. :Yeah well you don't look like much to fear either,: he said, even as his heart skipped a beat. There, clear on his neck, was an Ouroboros.  
>:Take that back,: he snapped. :Or you'll regret it.:<p>

:Somehow I don't think so.: Ed got into a basic fighting stance. This guy's weakness was obviously his temper. All he had to do was get him to blow it… and then it would only be one heck of a fight, instead of almost impossible. They were dealing with homunculi, and Ed couldn't quite remember the last time he had desperately wished more for Roy Mustang, the original Flame Alchemist.

But he had a darned good team behind him, and there was nothing he and Al couldn't handle, especially with back up.

He wasn't sure where Garrin was, but the man obviously wasn't about to fight his own battle. They'd have to deal with these two first.

The position and cocky attitude were enough. The first homunculus snarled, and charged him.


	15. Chapter 15

**July 11****th****, Cont'd**

Her back was aching by the time Trisha stumbled up the path to the embassy door, and she was panting heavily, from maintaining the transmutation that held Talya in an upright position that appeared to be walking behind her. It had been a long, winding, path to avoid being followed, or noticed. Getting out of the building through a back door had been a blessing.

The guards at the door trained their weapons on her until they recognized her, then ran forward to help, taking the nearly unconscious Roy from her shoulders, and helping him stagger indoors even as they grabbed the other woman, who slumped as Trisha dropped the transmutation and nearly collapsed herself. "She's the enemy," she said simply. "Lock her up. She has information."

"Trisha?" Tore's voice came from the doorway. "What the hell is…" he stopped talking, and Trisha guessed he had seen what she brought. "Damn."

A minute later, his shadow fell across her and he was crouching down on the cold pavement. A hand touched her shoulder. "Are you hurt?"

Trisha shook her head, and immediately looked up and willed her muscles to stop quivering. Now was not the time to be weak. "Bruised maybe," she replied calmly. Report first. Collapse later. "I found him, Shock. I followed her," she pointed towards the unconscious Talya, draped over someone else's shoulder. She couldn't identify him in the dark. "That's Talya Malenka. She's with them, this other group. They had Roy tied up in a back room in _The Crystal Cavern_. I knocked out the two toughs that were roughing him up and took her out. They were torturing Mustang for information." She stood up as she spoke. "Aside from the face, he's got busted ribs, and I think a dislocated shoulder. No internal injuries though, I checked."

Tore nodded. "Good work, Whisper," he said formally, though only she could see his eyes, and they were full of concern. "You get inside and keep an eye on things here. I'll go with the police when they get here, and we'll take your captive in for questioning. Hopefully we can get the police in there before all the evidence is cleared out."

"The guys I knocked out are probably conscious by now, unfortunately," Trisha admitted. It had taken her nearly forty minutes to get back on foot. Twice as long as the walk normally took. "We have to assume they know that Roy's been rescued, and Talya taken. Or they will soon, when they don't hear from her. We've got to-"

"_You_ have to get inside, clean up, and rest," Tore replied in a tone that was clear command. "And you had damned well better stay here this time."

"Yes, Sir." Trisha wasn't going to argue. The police could interrogate her and Roy when they got here, or after. It wouldn't matter. The damage was obvious and they had both witnessed and heard plenty. "When do you want to debrief us?"

"After Mustang's had proper medical attention and is in a frame of mind to do so," Tore replied. "Now inside with you."

Trisha got the oddest feeling he was refraining from ruffling the hair on her head. She didn't say anything though, just moved past him towards the door, not paying him any further mind as he started barking orders, and followed her inside. She could already hear voices on the phone as she half-stumbled up the stairs.

Kelsey passed her on the stairs, eyes widening as she looked at Trisha. "Damn, girl. You look like you were in a serious knock down."

"You could call it that. But you should see the other guys," Trisha flashed a weak smile, and then wondered if she really looked that bad.

"I hope I do," Kelsey replied grimly as she kept moving past her. "I saw Mustang."

Trisha found Roy's room first, but the door was closed, and Major Fawler politely, but firmly, refused to let her in. Orders were no one before the doctor.  
>Only exhaustion kept her from arguing the point. Instead, she turned to her room, got her shower kit, and hit the bathroom. She only meant to take a quick wash, but the idea of a fast shower quickly turned into a long, soaking bath before she gave her hair a thorough washing, and she almost fell asleep in the tub before a knock on the bathroom door roused her. Trisha climbed out of the tub, wrapped up in her dressing robe, and quickly found herself shoved out the door so that Roy could get a more thorough clean-up.<p>

Not that she got to see him. Her spirits sank as she went back to her room, wondering at the fact that Roy apparently needed help to get washed. She should have tried to do more to heal him before lugging him back. Maybe he would be in better shape.

The logical part of her brain reminded her that she couldn't have done much more, if anything. Healing was not her skill. The little bit of medical alchemy she possessed was more like the equivalent of a first aid kit and very basic medic training.

That didn't make her feel any less guilty about it; if she had gotten there faster, if she had acted more quickly. Ifs and more ifs flooded her mind. And with all of that, she felt horribly, suddenly, stupid. All of this arguing, and fretting, and romantic drama, and suddenly none of it seemed to matter. At least, not to her. She had the feeling, no matter what Roy asked of her, that she would say just to just about anything to be with him. The rage and fear that had filled her when she found him was proof enough of that. She still loved him, not that she had doubted that part. Could she convince him of that though? Was it too late? She desperately hoped not.

Trisha knew one thing for certain. If he had died, she would never have been able to forgive herself.

* * *

><p>Ed dodged another blow, bringing up his arm blade and hacking at the homunculus as he lunged again, and again, without much of what Ed would consider fighting skill, but the regenerative properties of a stone-powered body to take the hits when Ed landed a blow and keep coming.<p>

It had turned into a rough but furious dance, and Ed was sure in any other instance his opponent should have been dead ten times over. That was why he hated homunculi.

"This is ridiculous!" Cal shouted as he pulled water from the dripping stalactites and slammed it- crammed with rocks- into the homunculus, who stumbled, rolled, and came right back up, pushing through the water towards them.

"I warned you!" Ed said, dodging the water then leaping at his opponent with a strong downward stroke of the blade. It slammed into the homonculus' arm, bit deep, and then popped out again as he pulled away and regenerated.

Out of the corner of his eye, Ed caught side of Al and Urey tag-teaming against the other homunculus. The second one had gone for Urey first, but a wall slammed up out of the rocks by Al had stopped it first, and lost the homunculus any advantage of surprise.

"So how do we break them down enough?" Cal asked, griping as he managed to freeze the water and started flinging it like throwing stars. They slammed into the homunculus, catching him in the bag, and he writhed, screamed, and staggered back up in time to block Ed's next attack.

"Just like this." Ed hacked at him again, and then barely dodged a strike that tore a fold in his shirt. "Over, and over."

"Fantastic."

The first serious injury –one that nearly took the homonculus' head off- was a combination attack between Ed and Cal both, with Cal's alchemy serving as a distraction while Ed went in for a rather straight-forward sword strike. He hacked, and almost had it, until the homunculus dropped to the ground, off his blade, and rolled away. :It'll take more than that!: he gasped.

:I don't get it,: Ed admitted as he paused, panting to catch his own breath for just a moment. :Why are you fighting for that bastard, anyway?:

The homunculus straightened up, then lunged at Ed, who countered. :He created me. He gave me power.:

Ed shoved him backwards against a pillar of ice and rock Cal had transmuted. :He limited you. He made you flawed.:

The homunculus laughed as his body began to spark with lightning, and he slowly walked forward, off the spike, his sharp hands becoming short knives :How is this flawed?:

Ed shook his head, and kept pressing. :You're not human. You're not even close. You're not better, just a pale imitation.:

:I am not!: The homunculus leaped forward, smashing through the forest of ice pillars Cal was throwing up between him and Ed, but he shoved through them like they weren't there, heedless of injuries.

Ed stood, waiting for him, and when the homunculus struck, Ed countered again. :You got a name?:

For the first time, the homunculus looked abashed. At least, shame was the only emotion Ed could find in its quickly reddening face, even more than anger as it stumbled. :Regret.:

The guy had named homunculi after his weakest traits? Well, he doubted they were as strong as the others, if that was what he'd put into them. Ed shook his head, and took advantage of his opponent's momentary hesitation to nod at Cal, and go on the offensive. :Well, you're about to regret coming into existence.:

* * *

><p>Alphonse ducked the homunculus' leaping attack and brought his fist up with a powerful swirl of air that sent it high into the air, almost impaling it on the stalactites above before it began to drop. <em>I should try that again.<em> Next time, he would aim that high on purpose.

Urey took the moment to breathe, and then the two alchemists positioned themselves underneath it and a barrage of attacks began as soon as it landed, though the fighting was still fierce. This homunculus wasn't nearly as angry, or talkative, but it was clearly determined and surprisingly calm.

Al wished he knew where Garrin had gone. He did not like having the mastermind of the whole operation out of sight, even if he wasn't nearly as amazing an alchemist as he thought he was. Al would never trust a Drachman alchemist as debauched and depraved as this one, or even half as much. Too many bad memories, only this lab was far worse.

"Hey, Uncle Al," Urey panted as he slammed a rock over the homunculus' head. Not fancy, but effective. The homunculus reeled briefly and disengaged, as Urey nodded back towards the door they had come from. "Fire?"

Al didn't ask any more questions. He thought he knew what Urey was suggesting and he didn't want to give anything away to the homunculus, who recovered and launched at them again. Al still wasn't sure what special ability –if any- this one had, except that it too had the amazing healing powers he had come to associate with them.

Al just nodded at Urey, and then shouted "Run!"

As if they had planned it, Urey bolted and ran for the door, slamming into it and using alchemy to open it almost as quickly as Ed had while the homunculus, startled, turned his attention on what looked like an attempt to flee on Urey's part.

Momentarily forgetting Al, the homunculus darted off after Urey, who was pelting up the winding ramp full tilt.

Trying not to smile, Al followed. It was a risky move, letting the homunculus out of this cavern, but there were entire alchemical laboratories up there full of compounds that, mixed and tossed at a homunculus, should make for very interesting fireworks.

When Al got to the top, he found Urey and the homunculus locked in combat just shy of the door to the red-water room, Urey holding off the homunculus all on his own, though Al wondered how long the boy could keep it up, given he was working entirely with combat skills, finding it difficult to transmute and fight at the same time.

Al clapped his hands together and hurled another whirlwind of pure energy and force at the homunculus, sending it flying right through the door.  
>Urey, who was untouched by the wind, grinned at him, then darted through the door with Al on his heels.<p>

They were through the red-water room, and into the next alchemy lab, when they found the homunculus, whom Al had tossed hard, crashed into a table, alchemical compounds dripping all over him, and hissing. No fire, but acid, and as it dripped he began to scream, and flail.

Urey looked sick, and Al knew why, but he nudged Ed's grandson in the shoulder and grabbed another flask. "That won't kill it. It'll be up in a minute. Keep hitting it. I'll try and suffocate him."

"Suffocate?" Urey looked up at him, startled.

"If he holds still long enough." Al was fairly certain he could get a bubble of empty space, removing the air from around the homunculus' head. If he had time. It wasn't a fast transmutation. "You need to get him down and keep him there."

Urey grimaced as the homunculus staggered to its feet and lunged at him, eyes burning and body smoking as it healed where rivulets of acids had been trying to eat away flesh only seconds before.

Al watched Urey's expression steel, and the younger man leaped forward once more.

* * *

><p>Ed didn't have time to give much thought to Al, Urey, and the other homunculus vanishing back up the tunnel. He and Cal were too busy with Regret, who seemed to learn as they went, not falling for the same tricks twice. It was problematic, but Ed wasn't anywhere near out of tricks. He had decades of them stored up in his head to try.<p>

He and Cal had moved into a rhythm, that Ed broke regularly with something new and unexpected, though they were working together well. Without any option of fire, Ed had determined that their best hope was a freeze-and-damage approach. Pin the homunculus down, damage him as quickly as possible, and as much as possible, before he broke free and managed to get up again, and hope they could destroy him enough times that the stone would run out of juice and the homunculus would no longer be able to regenerate.

Ed still hated killing, but killing a homunculus, while he couldn't regret dispatching the monsters, required him to kill over and over and over, the same being, and it always left a sour taste in his mouth.

At least neither of them had been badly injured. Bruises didn't count. Ed just hoped they didn't get tired faster than their opponent. This was even more a game of stamina than strategy in some ways.

There, he saw his moment as Cal managed to use water to freeze Regret's food to the floor up past the ankle, almost to the knee.

"Get all of him!" Ed shouted, and Cal complied, pulling on every bit of water in the air and freezing it, locking the entire homunculus in ice.

Panting, Cal looked at the grotesque ice-statue quivering before him. "Damn. I hate these things."

"Don't we all." Ed nodded. "We're not done yet. It's alive in there."

"Right, step two, blow it to pieces. Repeat as needed."

Ed nodded and clapped his hands together. "I'll beat it down. You keep making sure you refreeze this guy as fast as possible every time." Because every one of his own attacks would shatter that ice. "Here we go."

One long metal rod shot from the ground, skewering Regret, then another, then a barrage of rocks, and ice splintered everywhere even as Cal reconstituted it and slammed it back up against the homunculus, who screamed, and writhed, and struggled in every spare moment, sparking like a lightning show in a summer storm as his body regenerated over, and over, in bits and pieces, pulling back together even as Ed did everything he could to splatter that homunculus all over the walls.

As the parts flew off, they seemed to crystallize and freeze as well, and fall to the ground. Cal's doing, of course. One landed at Ed's feet, and then exploded, and Ed knew what Cal was doing. Destroying the pieces he was hacking off, so they couldn't come back. More regeneration, more work.

But they were still working against the clock, because Regret continued to regenerate with speed that astonished even Ed, who had seen it before. It had been a long time… but not damned near long enough.

So they just kept splitting it up, and blowing up little bits, and blowing those up, and hacking and piecing and shattering. And all the while, the homunculus screamed.

Until finally, it grew smaller, and weaker, and Ed struck at the chest again, and again, hacking through until he could see the stone in the center; such a small thing. Lunging forward, he stabbed his arm-blade straight into the homunculus, risking closing in order to shatter that crucial center.

:No you don't!: Regret screamed, scratching out at him, but his hands caught Ed's auto-mail, and while the finish squealed painfully, Ed didn't think any functional damage was done.

The stone and the sword met, and for a moment, there was a flash of red—

-And then, it shattered.

With a final scream, Regret wailed and clawed at Ed to no avail as he stepped back, and watched the homunculus fall into dust.

"Wow… that was… terrifying." Cal was half doubled-over breathing heavily, sweating as if he had run a marathon.

Ed doubted he looked much better, though he was standing upright. "And it's not over, even if Al and Urey have dispatched the other one. Garrin's still in here somewhere, and if we want to get the whole nest, we've got to get him." He looked around at the few remaining bits of frozen homunculus. He clapped his hands together, dropped to the ground, and flipped it, trapping most of those bits underground in the layers of rock, pulling the molecules apart and scattering them so they could never budge again.

"Overkill?" Cal asked.

"No such thing with a homunculus." Ed shook his head.

"Are we going to help Al?" Cal headed for the door.

"Not yet." Ed shook his head, concentrated on the light above, and then transmuted it. The light spread out, reaching into further corners. And there… still ajar even, Ed spotted another door. "We're going after Garrin. Come on."

Cal sighed, but nodded, and took off at a jog for the door.

Together both alchemists hit the door.

Together they shoved it open and barged inside-

-into a raining barrage of cross-bow bolts!

Ed barely had time to register the attack. Only his instincts saved him as he dove for the ground, slamming his hands down and bringing up a wall of stone off which another dozen bolts plinked on the other side.

A gasp drew his head sharply around, to where Cal lay on the floor, barely covered by Ed's large wall, lying on his back, bleeding profusely from a bolt pegged solidly into the meat of his left side.

On the other side of the wall, the barrage did not stop. If anything, it grew harder, and the wall began to shake, and then to buckle.


	16. Chapter 16

**July 11****th****, Still Cont'd **

Staying low, Ed scrambled across the rocks to Cal's side, nearly falling on his face as his auto-mail leg hitched. He ignored it as he bent over Cal, whose breath was coming in gasps and he looked pale.

"Stick with me, Whitewater," Ed ordered as his hand went to the field kit in his pocket, and he jerked it out, fumbling for the medical alchemical arrays that Ethan had pre-drawn. "This is probably going to hurt like hell. Sorry."

"Better pain… than the real thing," Cal managed, his hands tightly over his bleeding side.

Ed noticed a bolt lodged in Cal's auto-mail leg, just below the knee. The whole thing was knocked off-kilter. That could wait. He lay the correct circle across Cal's chest, keeping it out of the blood and began to reach out toward Cal's injury as fast as he could manage. Healing never would be his calling, but the circle would handle that. All he had to do was not overdo it and guide the energy.

Cal went stiffed, shuddered, then groaned, but Ed kept going. A strong glow pulsed under Cal's hands, and the blood flow slowed, then stopped. Ed searched quickly, doing his best to find any internal bleeding, watching the transmutation put mangled flesh back together. Sweat already beaded his forehead.

"Bit longer." Ed wished this could be as fast as his other transmutations. He had never managed anything as fast as the time he had healed that gut wound in himself.

"Oh, no hurry," Cal quipped, teeth clenched together.

"Sarcasm is a good sign," Ed replied. "Keep it up."

"Do I have to?"

"If you want to live? Yes." He had to hurry. Cal's breath was getting shallower, and he had gone stark white.

* * *

><p>The homunculus exploded, but not for long enough. Already it was sparking and regenerating. "Again," Al barked.<p>

Urey transmuted again, tossing more of the acid –now transmuted for more potency- on the body. The homunculus' regeneration was slowing, but only after fifteen doses.

Al focused on the air inside the homunculus' body, and built up the pressure, and yet again, the body exploded from the inside, spraying more mess all over them. Al stomach curdled, but after years of combat, his nerves were steady.

Urey looked decidedly green, but he hadn't hesitated. The combination was working, even if it was slower than fire, and Al was proud of Urey for thinking of bringing the homunculus up to the lab.

The homunculus exploded again.

And again.

Sparks flew and arched, and Al dodged a particularly sharp bolt of alchemical lightning, still pouring energy into his own transmutations.

Then Urey tossed a particularly potent mix on the homunculus and the whole thing blew up… sending them flying backwards!

Al coughed and groaned as he staggered upright in the rubble. The homunculus lay there, little more than a head and a half-charred body, slowly decaying as the stone that made up its heart cracked and vanished.

The homunculus looked up at him with sad eyes, and coughed. He looked like he wanted to say something, and just before he vanished, he opened his mouth and out sighed the words, :I am… Forgiveness.:

Al felt a sting of pity for the dead homunculus even as a surge of disgust filled him. Regret and Forgiveness? These were the things Garrin felt he should put away? If he ever really had. It was more like he had forced other people to do his dirty work, and named the homunculus after the emotions he hated most.

A useful clue to Garrin's personality, not that it mattered much now.

Urey was standing over the space, bleeding from a small cut on his forehead. "Wow… he's just… gone."

Al nodded. "And we've got to get back to Ed and Cal." If they hadn't caught up by now, that meant they were probably still fighting.

He turned and ran back down to the cavern below, hearing Urey's feet behind him, and guessing that the fire started by Urey's blowing up the armory was keeping the rest of the people in the building busy, because he knew there were far more guards on the premises than they had seen.

The room was empty, save for the dusty remains of a violent battle. No sign of the homunculus except for an empty blast circle, and no sign of Ed and Cal. Then Al caught the sounds of something in the distance, and he found the door with his eyes. "That way."

He took off again, and he and Urey arrived, dropping low as the entered only because they had the forewarning of seeing Cal and Ed lying there several feet from the entrance.

"That looks bad," Al commented as he dropped to his knees next to Ed, and immediately put his hands to the transmutation circle, adding his energy and control to the transmutation, following Ed in to find the injuries.

Urey did the same, and the sudden surge was enough to speed the healing. Cal gave a sharp shout of pain, and the other three alchemists broke the circle.

Ed, covered in sweat, looked up gratefully. "You cut it close," he griped.

Al grinned. Yep, that was gratitude. "You're welcome." He looked at Urey. "I didn't know you knew healing alchemy."

"Not a whole lot," Urey admitted as he folded up the circle and handed it back to Ed. "But Ethan and Ren have taught me a few things they thought I really ought to know before going to college."

"Thank goodness." Ed ruffled Urey's hair and put the circle away.

The hail of bolts and rocks hadn't ceased.

"You'd think… they would change tactics," Cal griped, still lying there. "So I'm going to live?"

"No thanks to you, but yes," Ed nodded.

"We need to get you out of here though," Al added. They needed a real doctor to look at him eventually. He wasn't going to bleed to death, but that didn't mean he was in good shape. Especially not with his auto-mail leg jacked up like it was. "And that's not going to happen until we finish this fight."

Al looked at Ed's leg, also dented, though apparently functional. "Can you walk, Ed?"

Ed nodded. "I'll be fine. Don't worry about me. Go get him." He looked at Urey then. "You go with him."

Al opened his mouth to object, but Urey was on his feet with a serious expression, and it was better to go with back up, even against someone like Garrin. Al had no doubt he could take the other man on his own, but that didn't mean Garrin might not have surprises left.

He nodded at Urey and straightened up. "Let's go." And he vaulted over Ed's wall, hands hitting the top, and sending out a return fire of rock pellets that, with air behind them, quickly exceeded the density of the bolts coming his way, and clearing the air and destroying what proved to be an automated firing system built into the wall.

_Clever,_ Al thought as he landed on the ground on the other side, and heard Urey behind him. There was yet another door in the wall beyond, this one leading straight to a steep flight of metal stairs. "Quickly, but quietly," he told Urey, then began hurrying up as light on his feet as he could manage. He doubted Garrin would wait for them on the stairs themselves, though there might be traps.

The staircase turned out to be several flights, doubling back on itself all the way up several stories. Al was sure that that they were back above ground, and he wondered if it went straight to the roof of the building. Odd, and a little frightening to consider, since it had no exit doors off the landings on the floors they had come up so far. Who would build a staircase from a subterranean cave to the top of a building with no emergency doors?

Someone who didn't want people using the staircase was the answer he came up with as they rounded a corner, and started up another flight only to come face to face with a swarm of… "Squirrels?"

"Or something," Urey commented, panting slightly as he moved up by Al's shoulder. The stairs before they were covered in what had to be a couple dozen flying-squirrel looking chimeras, with particularly large fangs, all bristled and hissing. "How do we get past them?"

"Probably however Garrin got past them," Al pointed out. "Though if they're trained to recognize him, that may not help us much."

"You think they might be hungry?"

Al shrugged. "It's possible, but we don't have anything to feed them. Do we?" He looked back at Urey curiously.

Urey smiled abashed. "Well I've got some leftovers from a snack earlier in my pocket. Glad I had them, since I didn't get dinner but I haven't eaten them yet." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a napkin, which proved to be wrapped around two pecan muffins. "Think they like nuts?"

"They might."

"Then if I can distract them long enough, you get past them and go after Garrin," Urey replied, putting small pieces on his palm. "I'll deal with the chimeras."

Al nodded, though he didn't like it much. "That's a lot of chimeras, even though they're small."

"I've been cleaning chimera cages here for days, and I haven't seen these guys," Urey admitted. "Which means they're special. But they also aren't highly intelligent. I mean, look at them." He tossed a few crumbs at them, and immediately they freaked out… some scattered, several flew across the way to the stairs going down or up… and another handful approached the crumbs carefully, and nibbled at them, then made excited noises.

"That's it." Al waited for Urey to scatter crumbs, mostly on the stairs below them. Seconds later, all of the little chimeras had cleared the way. "Catch up when you're done." And Al took off up the stairs, leaving Urey with the chimeras apparently well in hand.

There were no more interruptions all the way up, but that only put Al more on the alert. When he reached the top, the door was open and swinging as if whoever had come out it had no bothered to close it. Of course, if they had gotten this far, Garrin had to know that a closed door was pointless.

There had to be a trap up here; a trick; something Garrin had left to pull out though Al wasn't sure what it was. More Drachman soldiers would just be able to charge down the stairs, though the narrowness of them would have made that too fair of a fight for someone like Garrin's taste. Al would have preferred that kind of a fight. In this case, he was expecting some kind of alchemical attack. Garrin didn't have the look of a fighter, and he didn't move like one.

That didn't mean he didn't have one last chimera, or homunculus, or soldier, or a huge array… waiting for Al.

Which meant that, since he had no chance of sneaking out, he should just do his best to come out at an unexpected moment, and when he was ready. _Thank goodness I don't need a transmutation circle._

Al steadied, focused, and leapt out the door, ready to attack whatever came at him first.

He wasn't expecting Garrin with a broomstick. He ducked easily, dodged the second swing, and stepped backwards. :You're kidding me right?: he asked as Garrin spun on his heel to attack him again, and with a simple economy of movement, Al knocked him to the ground, sending Garrin sprawling. :We don't have to fight like this.:

Garrin scrambled to his feet and pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket.

Al didn't let him activate the array on it. He clapped his hands together and a small whirlwind ripped the paper out of Garrin's hand and sent it blowing off into the orange-red glow on the side of the building, where dark smoke billowed up into the darker sky, reflecting the fire's glow, though it wasn't as strong as Al had expected. He supposed that meant the team shouting distantly below was succeeding in putting it out.

Garrin glared at him, and pulled something else from his pocket. Al registered the gun with only enough time to raise a concrete barrier that stopped the bullet Garrin aimed at his head.

Al came around the side of the wall and attacked Garrin while he was still lowering the weapon, taking him to the ground and pinning him with his arms behind his back, face down in the concrete. :And you call yourself an alchemist,: he shook his head. :How did you ever survive the war?:

Garrin struggled, but Al had several pounds of muscle on him and a solid grip. :Bastard…: he spat in reply.

:Depends on who you ask,: Al quipped back before he locked his arm around Garrin's throat and choked him until he fell unconscious. He wasn't sure whether to feel relieved or disappointed at the ease with which Garrin himself had been defeated. _Wow, I'm getting as bad as Edward._ Deciding to just be grateful that after pummeling soldiers, chimeras, and homunculi, he wasn't seriously injured and none of them were dead yet. He transmuted Garrin's clothing so that his lab coat turned into a fabulous straight jacket, then slung the unconscious man over his shoulders and headed back towards the stairs.

Before he went inside though, he detoured over to the edge of the roof nearest the fire. In the lights below, and the light of the moon above, Al had a very good view of swarms of people out of their barracks. Most importantly, from the cordoned off areas beyond the wall, streams of people were straight out fleeing. The side doors to the laboratory were wide open, and there was a line of vehicles leaving the valley, and just as many people on foot, though certainly not all of them. A large number were milling about in bewilderment, watching the soldiers –and many were helping- put out the fires caused by the explosions.

That stream of folks heading out had the right idea. Al headed inside. It was time to get out of here while everyone else was distracted.

* * *

><p>Trisha thought she might pace a run in the carpet outside Roy's room by the time the doctor finally left. She'd had time to dry off, comb out her hair, and practically been force-fed dinner –which she then downed with all the ravenous appetite of a tired alchemist- before going back upstairs and waiting, impatiently, for permission to see Roy.<p>

At last the door opened, and Trisha stopped moving as the same doctor who had come to treat them after the terrorist act, and her and Tore after the attack in the streets, came out of the room, and gave her an irritated look before sighing heavily. :Do not tax him, or they will throw you out.:  
>Trisha looked at Roy's roommate and one of the other Amestrian soldiers, who were standing at the doorway looking mildly uneasy. Neither of them had rank on her and they knew it. Still, they kept silent. :Understood,: she replied, then pushed past all of them into the room, and shoved the door closed behind her.<p>

The room was lit only by one lamp, casting it in deep shadows, and she when she turned, she could barely make out Roy, lying in bed under the covers. He wore no shirt, but with the sheets she couldn't see the bandages she knew must be covering his side. His head was swathed, though at least his face was cleaned and some of the swelling had gone down. Swallowing, she stepped away from the door towards him, and offered a hopeful, sympathetic smile. "Hey. How are you?"

* * *

><p><em>In pain. Extreme, agonistic, pain. <em>Not that Roy was about to admit that. The painkillers the doctor had given him were just starting to kick in, and everything was still raw and fresh, especially after being cleaned and having to move around.

Until that moment, he hadn't been sure what he wanted to say to her, and had been almost grateful when Tore separated them. Despite everything they had said to each other the past couple of weeks, Trisha had rescued him. In that moment when she had burst through the door, all he had felt –besides surprise and relief- was happiness, and not just at being rescued.

Now, standing in the yellow lamplight, her features sharpened by blue shadows, Roy couldn't imagine a more beautiful sight than Trisha; whether in her fury or in a quiet moment, when she looked so unsure.

He still loved her. He still wanted her… he knew that. All the fighting hadn't changed that. Indulging in self-righteous indignation had almost done it though. If only he had any idea how to say any, and all, of what he meant, and have it come out right. The last thing he wanted to do was start another fight.

The best thing he could do, he decided, was start with the truth. "I... it hurts," he admitted.

He barely had time to register the pain on her face before Trisha had crossed the rooms and fallen on him –without hitting his bad side- and was kissing his face, hugging him as best she could in that awkward position, and murmuring things it took him several moments to decipher… to find that they were apologies.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered between kisses, salty tears falling from her face to his skin, hot and sticky. "I was such a bitch…and insecure and… oh I'm just glad you're all right. I thought I'd gotten there too late at first and…. And then she kicked you and I…"

"Shhh." Roy silenced her the best way he knew how, by kissing her back, on the lips, and holding her gently to him. It was a ginger motion, tentative, then a little more sure as she tensed, then melted into his arms. Damn she felt good. He had missed having her close so very badly. She smelled fresh and clean, like soap and the leftover residue of alchemical energy. It was _hot._ "I'm sorry too," he finally whispered hoarsely when he broke off the kiss, "for not believing you about Talya. Thank you, for coming for me anyway."

"Is that all?" Trisha asked softly, wiping her eyes on her hand.

"And for being an insensitive clod," Roy added, and that seemed to be enough. She smiled weakly at him through her tears. "I admit, I was too busy feeling offended to think about why you would say those things."

"And I was feeling insecure because all those really hot girls kept hitting on you, and you looked like you were enjoying it." Trisha still looked like she wondered about that.

"I did," Roy admitted then he plowed on before she could get angry again… "But that doesn't mean I was interested. None of them are as attractive to me as you are… or as special." They had been best friends forever first. The fact that the fight had gotten this far was unacceptable to him. They had both been idiots. "We should never have gone this long without talking."

"You're right," she replied, sliding away only enough to cuddle into the crook of his arm. "I don't know what came over me… well no that's not right. It just seemed like we were growing apart. Always on different missions, and you always getting the exciting ones… but that wasn't your fault."

"But I should have taken the time to keep track of you, to make sure I was there when you were actually available." He could admit that now. Why had it seemed so hard before? It just seemed stupid that they had fought over this now, even if he still understood his own reasoning. He was still a little mad, but he could see her side of it. "And I… I'm sorry I pushed you, but you are damned attractive," he smiled sheepishly. "Can you really blame me?"

Trisha's face blanked for a moment, and he thought he might have gone too far. Then she sighed. "We can't do this again," she said at last. "I mean fight… and then not talk, and let it go."

"You're right," he answered, wishing he knew where she was going with this line of thought.

"We can't erase what we've said and done," she continued. "But, we can move forward, and learn from our own mistakes." She squeezed him again gently. "And when I thought you were gone, maybe dead… I thought I would do anything for you at all, if only I could find you alive."

"Anything?" If he had been a lesser man –or at least in less pain- he might have pushed that idea in a more physical direction. As it was, Roy stroked her hair, which was down and long, and silky in his fingers. "You saved my ass…and the rest of me, tonight. All I want is you right here… at least for tonight."

"And after that?"

"After that, I still want you with me, always. You know that." He had never tried to imply otherwise.

"So?" Trisha asked. "What are we going to do about it then?"


	17. Chapter 17

**July 11****th****, 1973 Continued**

Al found Urey on the stairs, having transmuted a good chunk of the railings into metal cages, in which the squirrel chimeras now chittered rather happily, nibbling on pieces of muffin. Urey, to his credit, only appeared to have suffered a couple of minor scratches. "I'm impressed," Al smiled.

Urey shrugged. "Like I said, I've been taking care of chimeras and test animals for a few days. I guess I smell familiar or something. But they're okay now. Though I wish I knew what to do with them." His expression dropped. "We can't just let them out into the wild. There are enough chimeras running around this part of Drachma. We could ruin the ecosystem."

"Though it seems like a shame to kill them." Al agreed. They didn't seem terribly harmful, except for the teeth. "Well, not everyone is leaving out there. I suspect if you leave the cages here, there will be enough food, and the Drachman authorities can deal with the place when we make sure the government gets a report as to just what they were up to out here."

Urey nodded. "We can do that." With that, he picked up the cages. "Let's go see how Grandpa and Uncle Cal are doing."

Al moved as fast as he could with the unconscious Garrin on his shoulders.

"So how did you defeat him?" Urey asked.

"Too easily."

They found Cal and Ed quickly. The two had managed to get upright, and fortunately despite the dent in his leg, Ed could walk and support Cal, despite the height difference. They were almost across the room where they had fought the homunculus, heading for the tunnel that would lead back up to the laboratories. He didn't like the way Cal looked, but his son-in-law didn't look like he was going to expire in the immediate future. Which was good, or Alyse would probably kill _him_ for letting it happen.

"Nice work," Ed looked at Garrin, unconscious on Al's shoulders, and gave a curious glance at the cages full of small furry chimeras. "Let's see what evidence we can find against these guys and get the heck out of here while we can."

Al nodded, and together the four of them made their way back up to the now-abandoned laboratories. Fortunately he and Ed had stolen or copied most of the critical research notes in the place over the past several days, so they wouldn't be spending hours on that. And they certainly hadn't needed –or wanted to take- everything. It would be better if the research was not all there for someone else to recreate later.

But as they went back through the labs, Al rifled through the files of some of the other alchemists, especially the ones who had been Garrin's cronies, and got enough to implicate them to, but left alone the files of the alchemists doing legitimate work after verifying that they were, in fact, doing their jobs. Having a list of which alchemists had not been involved was important.

"How do you think the diplomatic mission is doing in Petrayevka?" he asked Ed curiously as they rifled through files, while Cal rested and Urey set about destroying all the red water in the building save for a small sample they wanted as evidence, along with an entire camera full of pictures that Urey was snapping away with a camera he had broken out of a locked office.

"I'm sure they're fine," Ed replied as he looked at a file, then added it to the growing stack they were going to be lugging out of here. "Hopefully it's dull as dirt economic talk. Though that would be pretty boring for Tore and the kids."

"Better boring than what happened last time." Al shuddered slightly.

"Yeah, that's for sure." Ed agreed. "Okay I think that's everything in here. You check the chimera room for anything incriminating and I'll hit Garrin's private office one more time."

"I'm on it." Al glanced at the unconscious Garrin, head lolled to one side where he had been left propped up against a counter on the floor. They couldn't actually take him with them, he knew that, and he couldn't kill the man in cold blood, even if it was tempting. He was despicable. But they would let Drachma deal with the man for his crimes. They'd leave him –and some of the evidence- for the workers and the legitimate researchers to find, and get out of there.

The chimera room was mostly empty. It looked like they had almost all gotten out, save for a smattering of small animals, or been used to attack them. Al wondered what had happened to the human-hybrid chimeras that they _hadn't_ fought. If they were smart, no one would ever find them up here in Drachma. And Al wasn't going to go looking for them.

* * *

><p>Ed was quite happy to dump Garrin and incriminating evidence in the doorway of the building on their way out. He would be found quickly, and they would be gone. He hijacked the nearest abandoned truck, thankfully a civilian model, though in better shape than the one they had driven in with, and lugged three boxes of confiscated files and samples up into the truck, while Urey helped Cal up into the back seat of the large cab.<p>

He was limping around to the front himself when Al came running out of the building with what looked like coats for all of them and an armload of food, likely purloined from the kitchen.

Ed grinned as Al tossed it into the back and scrambled around to the side door. "And you complain I think about food." He hopped into the driver's seat and turned the key which had, in haste, been left in the ignition.

"Would you rather starve on the way home?" Al asked.

Ed put the truck in drive and joined the line of people already fleeing. In all this, getting out was going to be much easier than it might have been. Ed glanced in the rear view and grinned at Urey. "For the record, I highly approve of your methods of distraction."

Urey laughed. "Somehow I don't think that would go over nearly so well in college."

"So, what did we get?" Cal asked.

"Proof that the government had no idea what they were funding," Al replied. "The books were doctored, and their research reports too. That's the real findings, and a copy of what they've been actually sending to Petrayevka."

"At least the government, or at least, most of it, wasn't involved." Ed nodded.

"Rrreow?"

Ed almost stomped on the breaks in surprise. Then he glanced suspiciously at Al. "What was that?" It sounded, almost too much… like a kitten.

Al gave him a far too innocent expression. "The breaks?"

Ed rolled his eyes. "Al, is there a kitten under your coat?"

"What? No! I ah…"

He tried not to laugh. "Well it's that or you found a buffet in there and didn't share," he snickered, noticing the bulge in Al's coat he had missed in their hurry to escape. He turned his eyes back to the road, trying not to run over anyone making it out on foot.

"It's not a kitten, exactly," Al sighed reluctantly and unzipped the coat further. Out of the top popped the fluffy white-and-black striped head of a baby snow tiger.

"Oh wow… the tiger cub!" Urey leaned over from the back seat. "So that's where it went!"

"I found it on the way out," Al admitted. "I couldn't just leave him."

"You and cats, Al." Ed shook his head. "You know there's no way Elicia is going to let you keep a tiger."

"Or the city for that matter," Cal commented.

"Oh I know that," Al replied to Ed's relief. "I figure we can give him to the Central Zoo. They don't have a snow tiger, and they'd be the best ones to take care of him. We can't just leave him in the wild to fend for himself."

"Well, I agree with that," Ed admitted. "I hope you brought enough food for him too."

"Oh yeah, I grabbed all the raw meat in the pantry," Al assured him. "We'll all be eating like kings on the way home."

"Then how about someone pull out a steak and grill it up with a little alchemy for me?" Cal suggested. "I could use a little red meat about now."

Urey sat back and turned, reaching into the back of the truck. "I'll see what I can do."

Ed turned his focus back on the road ahead and the darkness. Hopefully by morning they would be far, far from here, and safe on their way home.

* * *

><p>From the lack of explosions, breaking glass, and screaming, Tore assumed that Trisha and Roy's interactions while he had been gone had gone at least reasonable well. He arrived back from the police station only an hour or so before dawn, long past the limits of his last two cups of coffee, and ready to drop. The police had raided the club, and found a lot of very useful information, and nearly a dozen people with information to spill when put to questioning. Talya's included, though she had been reasonably hard to crack.<p>

Central had been contacted, despite the insane hour, and Gurina –out of gratitude and a bit embarrassed by the events- had promised that the trade agreement would still go through.

Tore wanted sleep, but curiosity as much as concern drew him to Roy's door first, especially when he found his roommate curled up in a recliner downstairs.

Trisha and Roy were passed out cuddled up together on the bed, and Tore smiled and closed the door again quietly. They looked peaceful, and out cold and –thankfully- Trisha was still completely dressed. Whatever had happened, Tore suspected it had involved talking more than anything else. At least, he hoped, this would be the start of mending things.

**July 12****th****, 1973**

"And we'll send it as soon as we hit the station," Ed spoke into the tinny phone outside the gas station, as Urey stood watch to make sure no one came close enough to hear what was being said, or that it wasn't in Drachman. The weak dawn sunlight had turned everything washed-out orange and pink and blue by the time they had found the pay-phone and Ed had put in the number to the Embassy in Petrayevka. Thank goodness he had memorized that number, as well as a few others, before leaving on this trip.

"We'll be expecting it," Tore replied on the other end of the line. To anyone tapping the line, it sounded like they were discussing diplomatic paperwork. Ed knew better than to say anything about it that would indicate otherwise. "Well, I need to go. Make sure to send that post-haste."

"Will do." Ed hung up the phone, and turned to Urey who nodded that everything was still clear.

Together they walked back to the van. Al was in the driver's seat, feeding the tiger kitten, who he had named Fortune, for her good fortune in having been rescued instead of being turned into a chimera.

In the back, Ed noticed that Cal was still awake. "How's it going?" Ed asked.

"Haven't bled to death yet," Cal replied, grouchy and probably uncomfortable. Ed wasn't feeling great himself on no sleep and his legs were aching from driving, and his ports from strain after what had been the most exhausting combat situation he had been in in quite a while.

Ed paused to check Cal's bandages. He wasn't bleeding at all. The only parts missing were auto-mail. The leg was a real mess, and had been removed to avoid "Not sure if I should congratulate you or not," he admitted. "Winry's going to want to kill us both when she sees how dinged up our auto-mail is."

"That's the problem with your taste in women, Fullmetal." Cal grinned. "I'll go home and get spoiled. You'll go home and get smacked in the head."

"You're assuming Winry will let you live," Al commented as he handed the tiger back to Urey and got ready to drive.

Cal's smile faded. "So, just how do you keep from getting killed by your mechanic when you come home with your auto-mail in pieces?"

Ed glanced at Al, and wondered if he was thinking the same thing. Al's smile said yes he was. "Well," Ed commented as he buckled up and they got moving, "My wife has always been partial to earrings."

**July 18****th****, 1973**

The train speeding away from the Drachman border towards Central couldn't move fast enough as far as Tore was concerned. He sat in the observation car, watching North City vanish in the distance, grateful that the mission to Drachma was over, at least for this go around.

The diplomatic missions would continue, but the first visit had come to an end when it had been decided that the best plan was to make an initial deal that quickly confirmed an agreement between the two governments, and then allow further discussion to take place between Gurina and Rehnquist before the next set of formal negotiations. It wasn't a bad pact really, since the first thing they had agreed to do was re-establish travel between the two countries for business purposes with proper visas, though tourism would not yet be open. Proper tariffs had also been agreed on with relative ease. It was a start. And now they were going home while the Drachman government cleaned up its little mess.

And was Tore glad to be rid of them! He leaned back in his chair and took a long, slow drink of iced tea, though he wouldn't have minded something stronger after that whole mess.

"There you are, Lieutenant Colonel."

Tore looked up and found First Lieutenant Carrey standing beside him. "Did you need something, Lieutenant?"

"Actually, Sir, I had a question for Major Mustang, about alchemy. Call it curiosity. But I can't find him."

"He's in his berth, Lieutenant," Tore replied.

"Yes, Sir. The door was locked, Sir. I couldn't find Major Heimler either, Sir."

"She's in her berth, Lieutenant."

"I couldn't find her."

"Did you want to ask me your alchemy question then?" Tore asked, meeting Carrey's gaze evenly.

"I ah… it's all right, Sir." Carrey shifted uneasily on his feet. "It was curiosity, as I said, Sir. It can wait. Did I ah… miss something… Sir?"

"No, Lieutenant, nothing at all." Tore turned away, a sign of dismissal, and drained the rest of his iced tea. Yes, he could definitely use something stronger before they got back to Central. _Sara and Franz are going to kill me._


	18. Chapter 18

**July 20****th****, 1973**

"_What do you mean you eloped?"_

The sound of Sara's shrill shout echoed out over the crowd on the platform of Central Station, but she didn't care. How could this have happened? What had she _missed?_ She had sent her daughter off to Drachma on a mission with a boyfriend she wasn't speaking to, and they came home _married?_

Trisha looked abashed, but not sorry as she smiled weakly, Roy standing beside her, his arm around her waist. "Well we didn't elope… exactly. I mean, we did legally get married but we haven't _celebrated_ yet."

"Then how the hell is that not elopement?" Sara stared between Trisha and Roy, wondering who to strangle first. Then she looked at Tore. "How could you let this happen?"

"Sara, calm down." Franz' hand settled on her shoulder, and she turned to stare at her husband, who had an amused look in his eye. "It's hardly Tore's fault."

"Dad's right," Trisha cut in. "We didn't tell him what we were doing in North City."

"At least it wasn't in Drachma," Franz chuckled.

At least it was legal, he meant. Sara sighed. She wasn't ready to stand down, but there wasn't much she could do now. And she wasn't at all opposed to Roy and Trisha being married, but why couldn't they have waited until they got _home?_ "I suppose you're going to tell me there was some pressing reason the two of you couldn't wait a few extra days?" And if her daughter was pregnant she was going to find a knife and…

"Because I promised Trisha I'd prove my commitment," Roy said, his grip on her daughter tightening. "And she promised she'd do anything I wanted. Well, to keep the order right, we sort of had to get married."

Sara hoped her new son-in-law realized how close he was treading to insulting her and Franz with that insinuation. Why the hell was Franz taking this so easily?

But her husband stepped forward, hugged them both, and gave Roy a look. "Well you'd better take care of her then. Any more crying on the cat and she's going to look like a furry sponge."

Trisha blushed, and Roy nodded, looking more serious. "Yes, sir."

Sara sighed. It looked like she was terribly out-voted on this. "Well you had better have one heck of a reception. I hope the rest of HQ finds this romantic." It was better, she decided, than walking into Aldon's apartment all those years ago at Briggs to find he'd moved in with Cassie and they were expecting. "Well, congratulations." She hugged them both, then glared at her daughter. "But you'd better not be pregnant."

Roy bristled, but Trisha laughed and hugged her back. "Don't be silly, Mom. We got married. That doesn't mean I'm giving up my career or that we're going to start having kids right away. There are too many other things to do first."

"Right," Roy replied. "Like find a new apartment."

"I'll see you later," Tore commented as he moved off into the crowd, and Sara spotted Charisa and the boys moving their direction.

"Let's get your things." Franz moved past them and picked up Trisha's duffle, while Roy got his own.

Sara pulled her daughter aside then as they headed towards the car. "Is this really what you wanted?" she asked.

"We didn't want all the hubbub and chaos of a full wedding," Trisha replied, meeting her eyes easily. "All I wanted was Roy to prove he could make the commitment. We can still have a huge family party, if that's what you're afraid of, but no, I'm not going to be sorry I didn't spend a lot of money on a fancy dress. Though I think Alyse will be more upset than I am that she didn't get to plan it."

"Well, that's true," Sara conceded. Her cousin would have loved to plan the Mustang-Heimler wedding. "You might ask her to plan a formal reception though. Just to keep your careers on the up and up with the brass."

"Like you?" Trisha smiled. "Sure, Mom. We can do that."

"I love you." Sara hugged her daughter briefly. "I just wish I could have been there."

"It's okay," Trisha replied. "You'll be here for the important parts. We'll even say vows again if it makes you feel better."

"Good. I'd like that. But I'm still annoyed with you."

"Of course you are, Mom. If you weren't, you wouldn't be you."

Sara wasn't sure whether she should be insulted or flattered, but opted for the latter. "You know though, you're going to have to explain this to Grandpa and Granny." She could just imagine her parents' faces. She wasn't sure if they'd be horrified first, or laugh at Sara for having to deal with her child doing things her own way, just like she and Aldon had done.

_Now_ Trisha turned pale. "I didn't think of that."

**July 23****rd****, 1973**

Dinner at Sara and Franz' house was not the hectic affair Cal had been expecting the evening of his return home. Ian and Ted were gone to Resembool ahead of Ed and Urey; Ted to go home and Ian to make a summer family visit so his parents would stop asking if he was really still alive or if they just used an Ian puppet on the television.

Trisha and Roy weren't there either, but out hunting for an apartment and having dinner with Roy's family, who, Cal had heard, had taken the news with a similar mix of joy and stunned consternation at having missed the vows. Though he had heard Roy's sisters were the loudest complainers of the lot.

So it was just Sara, Franz, James, Cal, Alyse, and Gloria and Charlie, with Cal given an awkward seat of honor by taking up most of a whole couch, and Alyse fussing over him at every opportunity just as she had since he hobbled off the train earlier.

The days since the fight were a bit of a blur for Cal, who had spent most of the drive back to the Amestrian border trying to sleep in the back of that bouncy truck, whose shocks were only mildly better than their first Drachman vehicle. He suspected Ed had dosed him with the majority of the painkillers in Ethan's kit, because he slept a lot, and the pain had dulled with each passing day until they got back, and he had been treated more thoroughly at Briggs before they hopped the train home.

An afternoon spent under Ethan's more experienced alchemical healing had put most everything to rights, and Cal had found himself spared Winry's fury, and put up with Gale and Coran's rolled eyes and minor grumblings instead as they took the busted leg, and refitted him with his regular leg instead, declaring that the cold-weather piece could be fixed another time.

Now the worst of his agony was his still healing ribs and his freshly reattached leg, but he'd have thought he was dying the way Alyse was carrying on, and giving him irritated looks when he wouldn't tell her what all he had been up to outside of the fact it had been a top secret mission.

So she fussed to hide her irritation at not knowing, and she fussed because she was angry he was injured badly yet again, and she fussed because she was worried about him.

Cal just sprawled on the couch, and watched his kids playing with Sara and Franz' cat, and James, who kept rescuing the cat from Charlie and distracting him with a game of block towers. His stomach was full, really full, of delicious food for the first time in weeks.

"You like your iced tea normal or special?" Franz asked with a knowing grin as stood over him.

"Do you need to ask?" Cal asked with a snigger as he took the glass Franz offered. Ethan hadn't forced any pain medications on him, and that meant he was free to drink whatever he damned well pleased.

Franz sat down in the chair near the end of the couch. "Not really. Feeling better?"

"Now that I'm home, healed, and fed… a lot better," Cal acknowledged before taking a long slip of what proved to be very _strong_, hard tea. "How much do you know?" he asked vaguely. After all, the man worked in Rehnquist's office.

"More than most," Franz replied with a subtle smile. "Who do you think the President trusted with those reports?"

Which meant Franz and Sara probably both knew just about everything given their positions, and Alyse had probably figured that out. "No wonder my wife is mad at me."

"No, I think that's because you came home in pieces," Franz chuckled as the girls came out of the kitchen with dessert.  
>Cal was pretty sure he had a corner left somewhere to stuff a slice of cheesecake with fresh strawberries. "That looks amazing."<p>

"Not that you deserve it," Alyse commented as she sat down on the couch, though she offered him his cheesecake first anyway, and Cal could see the concern in her eyes.

"No, of course not," he agreed amiably as he set down his tea and picked up his dessert. "But it will still be amazing."

Despite herself, Alyse smiled at the compliment to her cooking. "Just promise me you aren't going away again for a while."

"I think I can promise that," Cal acknowledged. If nothing else, they wouldn't send him out again until he had healed up fully. Not unless there was some dire emergency requiring his skills.

"And I definitely can," Sara spoke up, surprising him.

"Oh, how's that?" Cal asked.

Sara took a bite of cheesecake, clearly savoring it just to hold him in suspense. Apparently she wanted to hold everyone else in suspense too, because even Franz looked curious. "How would you like my job?"

"What?" Cal almost choked on his cheesecake.

"At ease, Colonel," Sara grinned. "I just mean the desk and the paperwork. Kane and Rehnquist have been bugging me to take over more of the teaching duties for the State Alchemy Program for ages, for the students as well as some of our newer alchemists. But someone has to do my job, and you're certainly qualified. Want the cushy desk? Then you wouldn't have to leave town unless it was absolutely necessary."

From the look on Alyse's face, you'd have thought Sara had just offered them ten karats in diamonds. Her eyes were huge and hopeful. How could he say no to that? "If they'll have me," Cal nodded. "I do hope this little opportunity comes with a pay raise though."

"What kind of pay raise?" Sara asked.

"Hazard," Cal retorted. "Babysitting all those other alchemists could be dangerous."

* * *

><p>Alyse smiled as she watched Cal kiss Gloria good night and tuck her in, just as he had done with Charlie half an hour earlier. However much it drove her crazy that he had been gone for weeks, with almost no notice before he left, and still no real explanation of where he had been and what had happened to break his auto-mail and nearly kill him <em>again<em> she was relieved to have him home.

He straightened up a little stiffly, and turned, seeing her by the door, and he smiled as he crossed the room and turned off the light, leaving only the glow of Gloria's stained-glass-butterfly night-light in the room.

As the door closed behind him, Cal reached out and gathered her in his arms, more firmly even than he had at the train station, and she fell into them willingly as they kissed in a fierce embrace that she had missed. When their lips parted, his gray eyes met hers. "I'm sorry I worried you," he said softly, a little huskiness in the tone. "I really wish I could tell you everything."

Her heart melted. "It's all right," she replied, mostly meaning it this time. "I'm more frustrated with Headquarters than you. _You_ I was just worried sick about."

"Well I'm all right, and it sounds like I won't be going anywhere near danger for a while," Cal's lips quirked into a smile. "So you don't have to worry about me getting hurt again, okay? I'll be home every evening, and we can do more of those family outings you keep talking about," he added.

"And maybe we can find a sitter and have a night to ourselves," Alyse suggested. She knew her husband well enough to know that he was more interested in a passionate evening than spending all his time sitting at ballet recitals and playgrounds, however much he loved the kids, and he did; that much was obvious.

"How about right now?" Cal suggested, holding her a little tighter.

"Are you up for it?" Alyse asked, making it clear in her tone she meant his injuries, not his randy nature.

"As long as you promise not to knee me in the side, I think I can handle it," Cal chuckled.

"Well I wouldn't do that to you," Alyse promised. "Not on purpose anyway." She reached up and caressed his face, which looked a little thinner than she remembered. Where ever they had gone –she knew he had gone with Ed and Al and Urey where-ever it was, and she was smart enough to guess it had something to do with the Drachman negotiations- it had not been easy on him. She smiled. "I wouldn't want to spoil your first good meal in a while either."

"I appreciate that," Cal kissed the tip of her nose. "I really missed your cooking."

"More than you missed me?" she asked coyly as she took his hands.

"Not possible."

* * *

><p>"You know you have to take her to the zoo <em>tomorrow<em> right?" Elicia asked as she scratched Fortune behind the ears. She really was cute, but right now the snow tiger was already the size of their grown cats!

"Yes, I know," Al smiled. "But she's been so good on this trip. I just wanted to introduce her to everyone without a cage."

"Well not everyone seems thrilled to have her." Every cat they had had hissed and run upstairs and had not come down since Al brought the tiger indoors. "Though I do think she's cute," she admitted. "And I am sure the zoo will appreciate the donation of a rare Drachman snow tiger."

"It's too bad you didn't find a male too," Gracia commented as she brought the tea pot and cups into the living room. "Then they could have started breeding them."

Elicia felt a moment's alarm as Al's eyes lit up at the idea. Then he smiled wickedly. "Relax, I'm not going back to Drachma to go hunting down tiger cubs." He dangled a cat toy over Fortune's head, and she paused to swat at it. "I'll leave that to someone else."

**July 29****th****, 1973**

Lunch in the old house on the hill was a crowded, raucous, but pleasant affair. Ed still loved seeing the old place full to brimming with family. Another mission, another mess fixed by the Elric Brothers, and now here he was, home in Resembool, with his favorite woman.  
>His arm rested around Winry's shoulders as they sat on the couch, and watched as Urey regaled the family –completely against policy- with some of the basics of their adventure. He had done so only at Ed's urging, to be fair. Ed knew no one in his family would ever tell.<br>"Man I wish I could have gone," Ted whimpered as Urey finished telling him about battling the homunculus.

"No, you don't," Cassie commented with a scowl. "You still have a lot to learn."

"She's right," Ed said when Ted looked to him for defense. Ed had learned not to argue with Cassie when it came to her children, if possible. "Urey was good enough to handle it, and you're good, but you're not ready."

"But even when I am, there won't be any homunculi to fight," Ted pouted.

"I certainly hope not," Urey snorted. "Trust me; you never want to see one of those guys up close."

Winry leaned her head against Ed's shoulder. "You know, I should be mad at you for running off and doing dangerous things like that again, but I'm not."

"Lucky for me," Ed grinned. He knew Winry understood how important this mission had been. No one wanted to see a reoccurrence of the events of their childhood. "It's nice not to have a concussion on my first day home for once."

"If you're feeling nostalgic I could go find my wrench."

"No, that's okay, really." Ed reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bag. "But I did get you a little something."

Winry's eyes widened and she took the small paper sack and opened it, pulling out a small card on which dangled two sets of earrings made of silver, but with beads of amber. "They're lovely, Ed. But your auto-mail isn't even broken. Just… dented a little."

"I know, but why break with tradition now? I'm allowed to get you gifts for reasons other than saving my own skin aren't I?"

Winry smiled and kissed him. "Well, thank you. I'm just glad you all came home safe, and tomorrow we can see about reattaching your regular auto-mail. I've made a few improvements while you were gone."

"You always do," Ed replied with an indulgent smile. "I'm sure they're great."

"Unless you'd rather reattach it tonight," Winry offered.

"No, that's okay." He held her a little tighter. "I'd like to enjoy tonight. There will be plenty of time tomorrow to suffer." 

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note: 711/2012 Finis! Another adventure in Drachma survive__d. I rather wish I were in Drachma myself. Our air conditioning is out and it's been over 100 degrees Fahrenheit of late. So I have been holed up elsewhere, with the laptop on the ping-pong table in the room over my parents' garage, instead of at home at my desk. At least the cats are not melting! Unfortunately the part we need is taking forever to get shipped so I do not know how long I will be out of my home office space._

_Since summer has turned out to be hugely busy, I am going to shift over for a few weeks while it's summer and busy to something else fun to post, and** I would like your input!** While I am working on getting further ahead with Story 58 (which is in progress, I promise!) I would like to spend a few weeks posting little pieces based on** themes, ideas, and suggestions** (you have seen the ones I have posted so far based on one-word inspirations such as 'Begonias'. ;) If not, take a look!)._

_Suggestion notes: one word themes are great, though if it takes more than one word, feel free to do so. Please keep it to FMA. If you really want to see a theme dealt with involving a particular character (from the original anime, manga/Brotherhood, or my 'They All Lived' storyline), feel free to say who you had in mind. :) If I get lots of suggestions, I may post more than one a week. _


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